


What Might Have Been

by fionnabhair



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 59,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fionnabhair/pseuds/fionnabhair
Summary: AU: All the ways Dan and Amy didn't get together.





	1. First Comes Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU starting at Mike's wedding, because Amy dumped Ed for being so shifty and non-committal in 2.10.

Amy wakes up at a disgusting hour the morning after Mike’s wedding. 

Disgusting not so much because it’s early, but because of just how horrifically hungover she feels.

And…because of who she wakes up next too.

She has the kind of throbbing headache that makes moving…undesirable, a dry mouth and a vaguely queasy feeling… and in point of fact, the only pleasant feeling is that of the warm body next to her.She doesn't even think before snuggling closer, her head too fuzzy for proper thoughts.

It’s only when she hears the world’s most self-satisfied chuckle that it strikes her… that may have been an error.  No decent man has a laugh like that.

She doesn’t open her eyes, trying to reconstruct enough of the previous night’s events that she won’t be completely at a disadvantage when she finally has to talk to him.Because she knows… she just _knows_ who it’s going to be.

Wendy and Mike had forced her to do shots, because they were celebrating…something… and Amy has a horrible suspicion she actually…caught the bouquet, because apparently when she’s drunk she agrees to participate in antiquated mating rituals, and then… there’d been a guy with glasses, not cute, but not not-cute, who’d danced with her… 

And at some point she’d taken off her shoes and stumbled out into the garden to check her phone… to check if something was really true… and Dan had been walking back in and… stopped to talk to her…

Amy actually groans, long and drawn out, when she remembers the way she’d practically… thrown herself at him, using his arm as a handrail and teasing him about…

This is going to be horrible.

She slits her eyes open, hoping to confirm her suspicions (well, some of them - she can tell she had sex the night before, she doesn’t need to confirm that), and of course, of course, Dan is looking down at her, with the most obnoxious grin she has ever seen on his face.

“Morning sunshine.”

“Oh god I’m going to throw up on you.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“Seriously?Can you not just - not be you, for like five minutes.”

Dan makes a face, like he’s actually considering it, and then shakes his head.“Where would the fun be in that?”

“I won’t kill you, that’s where the fun is.”

“You know if people knew just how feisty you get in the bedroom, Ames -” 

“Shut up.”

“I mean, the scratch marks on my back alone -“

She covers her eyes with one hand.“I am never, never drinking again, I swear to god, what the fuck was I thinking?”

“Oh, we both know what you -”

“Shut the fuck up.I’m going to be sick.” 

“No, you’re not,” Dan says, sounding irritated.“I made you drink two glasses of water before we even left the - fucking a corpse is not my idea of -“

“So we’re in your…oh thank god.”

“Don’t want anyone to see your walk of shame?”

“What do you think?”

“It could have been much worse - Jonah was at the wedding.”  


“Not when…”Amy screws up her face, trying to remember.“He left.And you… you got him fired, that’s why… I was overcome with gratitude or something, because I’m stupid, and the thought of not having to be sexually harassed every day short-circuited my brain, and… oh jesus shitting christ there is going to be no living with you now.”

“You hungry?” Dan says, not trying to conceal his amusement. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’d be surprised if you’re not,” he says, the very definition of smug.“Pretty sure I wore you out.”

“Stop, you’re making it worse.”

“I could throw you out into the street right now, if that’s what you’d prefer?”

“Please.I’m amazed you didn’t sell my kidney while I was out.”

“You eat eggs, right?” 

He springs out of bed, and throws a navy t-shirt in her general direction.“I’m not wearing your clothes, I’m not your -“

“Oh, did you want to put your incredibly binding and uncomfortable dress back on just for breakfast?The one you can barely zip up by yourself?”Amy groans again.Sex is bad enough, but she’d had to go and fucking _talk_ to him.Dan laughs at her, and says, “That’s what I thought.”

It takes her ten minutes or so to slowly make herself presentable, and she can’t help it, she grumbles to herself the entire time.Just because she’d broken up with Ed was no excuse for… and now she has to use Dan’s hairbrush, and wear his shirt, and she’ll probably have to ask him to drive her home, since she hasn’t the faintest clue where her purse is…

Why didn’t somebody stop her?What use was Sue as a wing woman if she was just going to let Amy do any fool thing that came into her head?

She eats her breakfast in silence, squashing the urge to ask Dan how the hell this had happened, because she knows, she just knows it won’t lead to anything good.He’s busy checking his phone anyway, reading think pieces about Hughes’ resignation, and barely looks at her.(Amy tries not to think about where either of her phones are).

It’s only when they’ve both finished that he deigns to pay her any attention, and Amy’s not sure how she feels about it. 

She’d brought the dishes to the sink - he’d cooked for her, so she could at least…give them a rinse - which is when Dan comes up behind her, putting his hands on her hips.(He’s so tall, and broad, and warm, behind her, Amy wants to punch him right in the dick).

“So domestic,” he says, his mouth right by her ear.

“I’m not in the mood,” she says, and he chuckles again.

“Are you sure about that?”His lips graze the skin of her neck.“I seem to remember it being a relief to be with someone who knows what he’s doing.”  


She moans, though she’s not sure if his touch or his words that’s upsetting her.“How drunk was I?I wasn’t even going to _tell_ you I’d dumped Ed.”

“Why ever not?” 

She turns in his arms then, placing one hand on his chest to ward him off.“Because you’re a shit.”

“Yeah, but you don’t care, you still -“

She kisses him then, because at least there’s a chance it’ll shut him up, and then they’re making out, Amy standing on her tiptoes to reach his mouth, and it is definitely the most idiotic thing she has ever done in her entire life.

She feels his fingers creeping up her thighs, and then he breaks the kiss, laughing against her mouth.“You put your underwear back on.Well aren’t we the optimist?”

“Fuck you,” Amy says, but she does nothing to stop him from dragging her panties (oh so slowly) down her legs, concentrating on keeping her breathing even, on seeming unaffected.

Which lasts, oh, about five seconds, because then Dan lifts her on to the counter, catching her entirely by surprise, his hands gripping her by the waist, and pulling his t-shirt further up her thighs.(She hates that she finds it kind of hot, the way he’s able to do it so easily, like she’s weightless, she hates it).

But it’s when he kneels that she’s really surprised.  It must show in her face, because he smirks and says, “You did say you were tired of giving and not receiving.”

“I’m trying to work out…”Her voice is fucking shaking, it’s unbearable, and Amy takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, “How you think this is going to help you?I’m not doing a fucking thing for your career.”

“You assume I need a reason,” Dan says, and whatever response Amy might have made is cut off when he opens his mouth on her.

Her focus pretty much goes out the window after that - she even forgets that it’s Dan who’s doing this to her, Dan who’s making her feel so good, and when she comes, it’s with a helpless, whimpering _moan_ that she prays he won’t remember.

When he stands up, his expression is so self-satisfied, so knowing, that for a moment Amy seriously considers giving into her desires and hitting him.Sure he may have got her off, but he almost certainly deserved it.

But he’s grinding his dick against her, shamelessly grabbing her bottom and squeezing, and fuck it, it’s not like it can make anything worse… 

She gets her hand into his boxers, preparing herself to ask him if he keeps condoms in the kitchen (it’s Dan, he probably keeps condoms _everywhere_ ), when his phone rings. 

Dan makes the most irritated noise she’s ever heard him make (it’s kind of funny), and keeps his eyes on her the entire time (that she’s pumping him with one hand might have something to do with that).

When he hangs up he all but growls at her.  “We’ve got to go in for a teleconference with Selina.”

“What a shame,” Amy says sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.

“We’re not done, you know.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, because there is no way, no way, she’s doing this again, she’s not that stupid.

 

They do it again.

It's really not her fault.  If anything, sleeping together had made the tension  _worse_ , which she almost couldn't believe, and yet... as much as she hated him, as much as she was going to beat him to the campaign manager job, when he gave her that certain smirk... she wanted to rip his shirt off, and only partly so it would be easier to strangle him.

It’s weeks later, and Dan came by her apartment to complain about Selina’s pro-choice-but-not-really-speaking-as-a-woman car crash of an interview (as though that was in any way Amy’s fault).She shouldn’t have let him in, she should have known better, but since he’d made himself look borderline unstable to Selina, Amy’s feeling generous.  

And she can’t help it, when he gives her his version of puppy-dog eyes after she refuses to share her last slice of pizza, she laughs.  “You really shouldn’t do that, you have no idea how strange it looks,” she says.  “It always makes me want to put mascara on you.”

“What?”

“You do that eyelash thing, and they’re so long, and…I always wonder how it would look.”

Dan snorts, and then gives her a little sideways-glance.“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Now I’m wondering, so… lead on Brookheimer.”

She starts a little - she’s pretty sure this is all some attempt on his part to fuck with her, and… and she’s not used to taking the lead in these things.But she’s slightly tipsy from the bottle of wine they’d drunk over dinner, and…why the hell not?Maybe she can get some photographic evidence, maybe she can poke his eye out, the range of possibilities is endless.

She usually does her make-up while scanning news alerts at her desk, so she brings him into her bedroom and tells him to sit on the desk chair.

Naturally, being himself, Dan sits on the bed. 

Amy rolls her eyes, but can’t be bothered to argue with him.She has this mad urge to laugh, to giggle right in front of him, and swallowing it down takes all of her concentration.She’s very, very conscious that she’s just wearing pyjamas (DKNY pyjamas, but still), while he’s still fully dressed (she really hadn’t been expecting him to come over).

But it’s not a surprise that he pulls her onto his lap when she approaches him with the mascara wand.She doesn’t bother fighting it, just adjusts her seat so she’s straddling him more comfortably, and says, “Little warning for the future, don’t startle me when I have something this pointy near your eye.”

“Sorry,” Dan says, running his hands up and down her body, and sounding even more insincere than he normally does.

Amy shakes her head and leans up on her knees - he said she could do this, so she’s going to.She has to concentrate on what she’s doing - which is difficult, the way Dan keeps touching her - and it starts to feel weirdly intimate, being so close to him, looking so carefully at his eyes. 

He looks like he wants to eat her.

He also looks fucking ridiculous when she’s finished putting the mascara on him, and Amy does giggle then, sitting back down on his lap with a bump. 

And, well.He’s hard. 

It’s not exactly a surprise.And she should, she should have told him to fuck off hours ago, she should never have opened the door to him, but… but it’s hard not to grind down on him the way he almost certainly wants. 

But she’s going to control this situation, no matter what he thinks, and so she takes a deep breath and says, “Do you have condoms?”

“Like you have to ask.”

She nods, and then… then she’s not sure what to do next… she’s not sure how much she’s allowed to touch him. 

She bites her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes, and that’s when Dan pulls her back onto the bed with him.

(It’s the best sex she’s had in… well, Amy doesn’t like to remember how long.That he keeps making her laugh throughout almost makes it better).

It’s only afterwards, when she’s dug a carton of ice cream out of her fridge, and they’re eating it in bed, that he says the words that make the bottom fall out of her stomach.

“You’re on the pill, right?”

 

* * *

So, it turns out, sleeping with Amy when she was drunk enough to catch a wedding bouquet was maybe not the wisest thing he’s ever done.Or, more specifically, sleeping with her without a condom was not only not the wisest thing, it was beyond stupid. 

He’d assumed… he’d assumed she was cheating on Ed with him (and had kind of got off on it), and even after she told him what was really going on (between the first and second times), he hadn’t thought it through to the logical conclusion.

She wasn’t in a relationship, and therefore she wasn’t on the pill, and therefore she should have taken the morning after pill.(And would have, if he’d had the decency to warn her, something she mentions, oh, several dozen times). 

Her face actually went white when she realised what might have happened, and Dan can see her doing the math in her head, trying not to panic the whole time. 

He’s been in this position before, of course, it’s just… none of the other women ever seemed anywhere near as scared. 

She’d assumed she’d skipped a period because her cycle was messed up from coming off the pill, it hadn’t crossed her mind that…

He leaves, to go buy her a pregnancy test, and it’s kind of a relief to get away from her.She was trying not to seem affected, but she’d never been that good an actress, and he could see the worry in her hands, in the way she sat, and… and it was a relief.

It’s positive, because of course it is, of course it fucking is, nothing else has gone right and why should this. 

Amy…shuts down almost, goes silent, goes still, clutching in on herself.(He’s seen this before, and he’d felt proud of himself then, but this… this is different).

When he finally dares to ask the question, all she says is, “I can’t have a baby.”

“Do you want to… talk about options?”  


“No,” Amy says, and her stillness is kind of freaking him out now.He’s used to her shouting and swearing and demanding things, filling the space with her personality, and seeing her so quiet makes him feel as though an explosion is imminent.

“I am not going to wind up like my fucking sister, that is not happening, so… I’ll deal with it.”

“But how…”  He hesitates for a moment, because he knows it will sound callous… but she’s almost certainly thought of this too, so he might as well.  “Amy, the campaign… there’s no way to keep it from getting out.  And, on top of your ‘miscarriage’….”

“There are ways,” she says, not looking at him. 

“People leak medical records all the time, you know that.”

“I’m not having a baby just so Selina’s campaign doesn’t have a -“

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I’ll deal with it,” she says, “I helped out friends in college, it’ll be fine, you can buy the drugs online, it’s anonymous.”

“Until someone hacks your email account.”

“I’ll find a way.” 

“And then what?”

“I take the pills, I feel like shit for a few days, and you and I go back to… just get out of my sight.”

Gladly.

Watching Amy Brookheimer freak about being knocked up with his kid is not his idea of a good time, and so he goes home.He can’t look at her when she’s like that.

She barely speaks to him after that, and when she does she’s curt and clipped, as though every word costs her something.Fortunately, they’ve been so competitive about the Campaign Manager job no one really notices. 

It’s only after Selina’s announced her campaign that he decides to broach the subject with her.He needs to know, to be sure she hasn’t… changed her mind or something (someday he’ll probably need to settle down with kids, for the social cachet of the thing, but… not yet). 

Maybe asking her when she was holding the hand of the world’s cutest four year old wasn’t an ideal move, but it’s the first time he’s been able to corner her in days (and he’s so wound up from yelling at the SNL guy he’s feeling reckless). 

Amy shakes her head at him, like she can’t believe he’s being so stupid, and grits out, “They’ve arrived.”

"And?"

“And, and I’ll take them when… Senator Doyle.”

She dumps the kid with him and all but runs away with the Senator, looking so relieved to escape it’s like he’s Jonah. 

Still, he has to know for certain, and so he pulls her to one side that evening.Selina is drunk with pride at having finally announced her candidacy, and everyone else is popping open champagne bottles and trying to position themselves as essential to the campaign (which is really what Dan should be doing, but if this fuck-up becomes public… it’s the last thing anyone needs).

“When are you going to take them?”

“When I feel like it,” Amy snaps, sipping her drink and avoiding his eyes. 

“And when will that be?”

“Well not now, idiot.It’s not a particularly enjoyable… I’m going to need a few days to...recover.”

“So, Friday then.”

“Maybe.You really don’t need to know anything about it.”

“Believe me,” Dan says, “I’d rather not.” 

Every other time he’s done this - not that there’ve been that many - he’d paid his share and backed well away from things, but… but at least those other times he knew she’d be going to a _doctor_.This whole ‘buy pills from the internet’ scheme doesn’t exactly fill him with confidence.

“Have you told your Mom?”(That’s not really what he’s asking).

“You met her, what do you think?Literally nothing would make her happier than to know I’m having your spawn, so, no I haven’t told her.”

“You’re not planning to do this alone?”

“That’s my business.”

“It’s insane.”

“It’s a very low-risk drug, it’s perfectly safe, there’s nothing to -“ 

“And what if you bleed out?”

Amy smiles an ugly little smile.“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?You’d definitely get to be campaign manager then.”

“Sure, Ames, because a news-story about a senior staffer dying of a botched abortion wouldn’t make my life more difficult or anything.”

“Fuck you,” she says, and Dan realises she’s trembling.“I will deal with this in my way, I didn’t ask you to do anything, so you can fuck right off.”

She puts her drink down and walks away from him then… and avoids him for the rest of the week (insofar as such a thing is possible).(She even goes for lunch with Mike one day, which is self-punishment if nothing else).

But he’s not giving in that easily, and so, when he hears Amy’s gone home early on Friday night, he drives right over to her apartment.She can be hardheaded all she wants, but doing it by herself is majestically fucking stupid. 

He has to call her five times and hammer on her door before she lets him in, and even then it’s only because one of her neighbours threatens to call the cops. 

She’s still doing that rigid-faced thing, and she looks worse than she ever has (not that she’s ever looked _bad_ , but…) 

When he sits on the sofa, she folds her arms and glares.“I’ve already taken them, okay, if that’s what you’re so fucking worried about, I'm not going to baby-trap you.You can leave.”

“Is anyone else here?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you here.”

It’s the first time Amy’s sounded like herself since… since the night they found out, and it’s weirdly comforting.“Well, you’re stuck with me,” he says, “Either that or I call an ambulance and have you brought in to the ER which… wouldn’t that attract attention?”

He can tell from her face that she knows he’s right, and therefore he’s not surprised when she storms off to her bedroom. 

When she comes out, she’s wearing thick pyjamas and has taken her make-up off, looking all fresh-faced and natural… she could be a college student or something, and… and whatever twinge of guilt Dan feels at noticing this is smothered by her pointedly ignoring him when she turns on the tv.

Even curled up on the couch, she still looks tense, and when he offers to at least… buy her dinner (which is fucked up, he knows, but it’s not like there’s an etiquette for this situation) she rebuffs him. 

It hits midnight, and she’s still sitting there, looking wired, and so he asks where he should sleep.He’d expected her to fight him, to try to kick him out, but she just points towards the bedroom.

It’s fucking weird going to sleep in her bed when she’s not there, especially when Dan knows she’s only a few feet away… but he’s drained from the week they’ve had and pissed with her, so he manages it.

He wakes up a few hours later, he thinks, and it takes him a moment to realise what woke him.

Amy is crying.

When he stumbles into the living room, rubbing his eyes and hoping like hell nothing has gone wrong, he sees her, still in the same position on the couch, but with her head buried in her knees.

He sits beside her, and Amy… cringes away from him, tries to make herself smaller, and… oh jesus, now is not the time for her to decide she actually wants the kid.

Still, she’s Amy, meaning she’s tough as nails, and she lifts her head and looks him dead in the eye.“Did you do this on purpose?”

“What?”

“Did you get me pregnant so I’d be… off my game or whatever, so Selina would pick you, is that what you did?”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“Don’t pretend it’s something you wouldn’t do.Don’t.”

He shakes his head at her.“Even if… even if I could have predicted your fucking ovulation, which I can’t, I wouldn’t… I have some standards - I didn’t even realise I did until you suggested that…but I do.I thought you were on the pill.It was stupid of me, and I won’t make that mistake again, trust me, but… but that’s too fucked up even for me.”

Her lower lip is trembling.“The pills worked,” she says, and her face kind of…crumples.“I’m so fucking relieved.”

“Hey,” he says, and pulls her into him. 

He doesn’t do this, not really, not ever, he’s not…affectionate, he’s not comforting, but… she’s been holding herself up for far too long.

When Amy buries her head in his chest, he can feel her shaking.He doesn’t really know what to say to her, but…but she doesn’t seem to want to talk, collapsing seems to be almost enough by itself.

Eventually, long minutes later, he convinces her to go to bed, and all but carries her into the bedroom.(She’s so light).She curls into his side the moment he lies down beside her, and though he’s never been a cuddler, Dan decides to let her.It’s better than that stiffness by far.

It’s easier to do this in the dark.“You know,” he says, “It doesn’t mean it’s never going to happen.”

Amy scoffs a little, he can feel it.“I”m not about to put myself through a month like this again.”

“Fair enough.”Dan strokes her hair, and listens to her yawn.

“I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid,” she says, “I”m usually so goddamn careful, I never… I never take risks like that.”

“It was my fault.”

“Oh, I know,” Amy says, “But you’re not the one who had to - I never thought I would have to do that.”

“You’re not…like, having second thoughts?”

“Are you insane?It would ruin everything.”

“Would have been a cute kid though,” he says, amused by the image.

“I guess I thought… maybe someday, but not now, and not by myself,” Amy says, “It would screw up everything, you know it would.”

“I know,” he says, “But… if you ever want me to knock you up again, just say the word, Ames.”

“Please, like I would want you for a… at a bare minimum I would want a father who… you know, would be a _father_.”

“So you’d have had Ed’s baby then?”

He feels her shake her head.“It’s not the time, not for anyone.When I saw… it was like my whole life was ending.So, no.It wouldn’t matter who.”

He tilts his head and kisses her and, sooner than he’d expected, she goes…soft against him. 

“Thank you,” she says, “For…coming tonight.I know it was just to avoid a bad news story or whatever, but -“

“Don’t be fucking stupid.”

“What?”

“I was worried about you… jesus, Ames, when these things go wrong, they go badly… I didn’t want you to… I was never going to leave you alone, for fuck’s sake.”

“I didn’t think - it never crossed my mind that you…gave a shit.”

“Yeah, I’m a real prince Amy, I didn’t want you to die.”

“You’d have got over it.I’m not even your type.”

It seems an odd thing to say, and he puzzles over for a few minutes, listening to her drift into sleep. 

It’s only months later, when they’re celebrating after the first primary debate - proof, if proof were needed that they _could_ run a joint campaign if they put their minds to it - that he realises what she’d meant. 

He’d said that to her, the day he dumped her, but… but he’d never thought… 

She wasn’t supposed to take it seriously.

Suddenly the look of surprise on her face every time he kissed her made a weird kind of sense.And so he does it again.And again. 

By the time of the Convention they can both admit that there’s more to their relationship than fucking.Maybe it was because Amy was overwhelmed at having convinced Selina to go with Tom James, or maybe it was because they were both so relieved that Mike had finally been fired (over that blasted data breach), or maybe it was because of the way her face lit up with victory, but…

But an engagement could be a really good news story for the campaign, and so he convinces her to go along with it, the morning of the election (they capture a full half hour of the news cycle).

A month into the transition, Amy tells him she’s pregnant. 


	2. Drunk Enough to Say I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU starting from 4.04. Amy stays for one last drink.

Amy shouldn’t – she _really_ shouldn’t – have had that fifth tequila shot, what the hell was she thinking?  She has to work in the morning, she has to fix the clusterfuck with Doyle, she has to…

She wants ice-cream.  Mostly because whenever she thinks about work her thoughts fuzz over with some combination of frustration and tequila, but ice-cream is moon-clear and bright in her mind.

With caramel, maybe.  Or cookie dough.  Or both.

It’s probably just that she’d been too warm in the bar, flushed and pink whenever Dan looked at her, her hair sticking to the back of her neck.  She can smell her own sweat even.

So she’d just carried her jacket with her when they left, folding it over her arm and following Dan obediently.  Of course – of _course_ – he didn’t even stumble, completely steady, like five tequila shots isn’t anything, like he doesn’t even feel it.

If she thought there was a chance of it working, Amy would knock him over right now, make him fall on his ass right in the street.  That would mess up his stupid hair. 

Sometimes she hates him so much she can taste it… it’s just that right now it’s very difficult to remember _why_.

He turns to her, to say goodnight, she thinks, and grins when he sees her swaying on her feet.  “Have I finally found the limits of your tolerance?”

“Shut up,” she says, resisting the urge to slap his chest.  “I don’t think you even drank any of those shots, you were just –”

“Looking for an opportunity to see your drunk walk?  Yeah, that sounds like something I would do.”

“Please, no one knows why you do _any_ of the things you do, not even you.  You’re like an oil slick – you just _happen_ , and then everyone winds up poisoned.”

“I knew it,” Dan says, with a weird expression on his face.  “You do miss me.”

“Ugh,” she says, because he is the _worst_ , the living worst.  “I’m going home.”

She did not expect Dan to follow her, but that’s what he does, strolling by her side as though he hasn’t a care in the world.  When he catches her surprised glance all he says is, “You could get a cab, you know.”

“I am not getting into one of those rape-mobiles when I’m only thirteen minutes away from home.  I don’t like getting cabs when I’m drunk.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, “I can tell.”

“But you, feel free, off you go, I didn’t invite you.”

She stumbles, slightly, on an uneven paving stone, and Dan makes a sound that’s at least part groan and slings his arm over her shoulders.  “If you fall over and fracture your skull, there goes my White House access, so…”

“Ugh,” she says again, with more feeling, and tries to shrug him off (it doesn’t work).  “Do you _ever_ do a decent thing because it's decent, even by accident?”

“No.”

“That’s almost comforting,” she says, and remembers, “I was going to ask you something.”

“Oh, _really_?”

She ignores his tone, and continues.  “They gave me your desk, you know.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, “I did know.”

“What?  How?  Do you actually have hidden cameras in there?”

He snorts, and it’s a warm, private sound, just for her.  “No.  Jonah sent me photographic evidence.”

“What?”

“Here, I’ll show you.”

And then he takes his phone out of his pocket, and pulls up a picture of her.  It’s a few days old, Amy knows, because she’s got her leg propped up on the desk (so she could tighten the strap of her shoe). 

“That is the creepiest thing I have ever seen,” she says, holding his hand steady so she can see the picture properly.  “I’m not sure which is worse… that Jonah’s been taking creepshots of me, or that you kept it.”

“Well, maybe I missed you too.”

Amy laughs, louder than she normally does, and Dan squeezes her shoulder (his hand is so warm).  “You’re going to delete that, right?”

“Depends if I’m feeling sentimental or not.”

“Your chip must be malfunctioning again.  Anyway, I can’t get the third drawer open, should I be… should I be worried about what’s in there?  Hire like, the centre for disease control to come deal with it?  Fumigate it maybe?”

“Those little arms letting you down, huh?  Just get Richard to do it, then he might be useful.”

“If I did that, he might get it into his head to work for me again, I am not putting myself through that a second time.  I’ll just leave it as a shrine to you, a permanent memorial in the White House to where dreams go to die or something.”

“It’s sweet that you dream of me, Ames.”

“Ugh,” she says, “If I ever do, I will check myself in for therapy immediately.”

“You mean you haven’t already?”

“Haven’t got round to it.”

They’re on her street, and she takes a moment to hate, genuinely _hate_ , that Dan knows where she lives.  She should have moved, years ago, she should have found herself a place he didn’t even know existed, what was she thinking? 

He actually follows her up her steps, which… on the one hand, she’s grateful, because he steadies her, but on the other… she knows him, and this can’t possibly be leading to anything good.

She fumbles getting her keys out of her purse, and Dan chuckles into her ear, and she might… she might turn around and poke him in the nose, since she can.  “I am not inviting you in,” she says, “Just because you followed me home like some stalker and I couldn’t get rid of you doesn’t mean –”

“Amy, I need a piss.  Are you really going to –”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”  She tries to remember for a moment if she’s left underwear anywhere he might see it (probably not).  “Fine.  But it’s only because I’m nice.”

“Yeah, you’re a real peach.”

When they get inside she points out the bathroom and makes her way to the kitchen.  She is not sitting around her living room like she’s waiting for him, no fucking way, though she does take a moment to kick off her shoes.  She's almost sure she has half a tub of mint chocolate-chip left, and _that_ is her plan for the rest of the evening.  She drinks a glass of water first, since that’s what a proper adult would do, and then bends to open her refrigerator, yawning as she does so. 

She is _really_ not looking forward to dealing with the Doyle fiasco.

When Dan calls her name she all but jumps out of her skin (it’s been a longer time than she likes to remember since she had anyone else in the apartment).  Of course, when she turns around he’s staring at her with the most _amused_ expression, and… and… she has a bad feeling.

“Well,” she says, “You’re done, you can go now.”

“Yeah, I can,” he says, and steps closer to her. 

“In case, I wasn’t clear before, I didn’t…if you think I… that’s not what this is.”

“You mean if I think you let me in so we could fuck?”

She swallows, hard, and shakes her head when he takes another step closer.  “I didn’t…”

“Relax,” he says, and touches her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.  “I know you.”

And then he bends his head and kisses her.

It lasts longer than she’d expect (if she ever thought about it).  He doesn’t press, doesn’t push, lets her set the pace, and… and… and she knows it’s a trap, she knows he’s doing it on purpose, but it works all the same.

She’s…breathless.  He’s got her pushed up against the refrigerator, and she feels like he’s the only thing holding her up. 

He doesn’t let up, of course, (he wouldn’t be Dan if he made things easy), but she’s the one who pulls him closer (by his stupid skinny tie), she’s the one who deepens the kiss, she’s the one who presses herself right up against him, spreading her hands out over his chest, feeling his heart beat under her palm (so he does have one).

When Amy finally gets a grip on her sanity, she pulls back, and _then_ he pushes, chasing her mouth with his, nipping at her lower lip and spreading his hands out over her ass, pushing right into her, and she… she makes a sound, like a baby moan is caught in her throat.

(When she sobers up, that sound alone is going to haunt her).

She breaks the kiss, because she has to, she hasn’t lost her mind, and Dan… doesn’t exactly chase her, but he stays with her, so close his face is all she can see. 

“You need to go,” she says, and her voice doesn’t sound anywhere near as firm as she would like. 

“Sure,” Dan says, “Any minute now.”

He kisses her again, and it’s…gentle, so gentle she could sink into it, so soft it has to be a lie.  When he finally lets her go, she can’t help herself, it just comes out.  “I wish I’d kept my heels on for this.”

Dan laughs, and pushes her hair back from her neck so he can kiss her throat, his mouth warm, and _wet,_ on her skin in the best way.  “I swear to god, if you give me a hickey, I will –”

“Whimper out loud?”

“Fuck you.”

“Are you offering?”

“No,” she says, and then she fucking _gasps_ , because he’s got his hand on her breast, trying to push her dress down her shoulder, and… and she needs him to leave right now.  (If he gets his mouth on… her willpower will be _gone_ , and that’s not a situation she wants to deal with). 

Fortunately, her dress is clearly tighter than Dan had expected, because despite his best efforts, it stays firmly in place, and after a huff of irritation, he’s reduced to groping her through the material (and it feels really fucking good). 

“You’re leaving now,” she says, and means it.

“You’re the boss.”

“Yeah, so…off you go.”

He kisses the side of her mouth, quickly, softly.  “Are you absolutely sure?”

“When I’m with a guy, I like to know he’s thinking about me, and not the West Wing.”  She means it to sound careless, like she’s batting him away without a thought, but she can’t quite manage it, and so she continues.  “That kind of thing is no good for a girl’s self-confidence – definitely not a turn-on.”

She doesn’t like the look on Dan’s face at that, not at all, and so she pushes straight past him, hoping he’ll follow her to the door. 

He stops in front of her before leaving, and suddenly she feels so very little, like he could pick her up and carry her away if he wanted, and she can’t quite look at him. 

He’s made it _weird_.

But of course that doesn’t bother him in the least, and all he says is, “Night Ames.  Do it again sometime?”

Which… she’s not even sure what he means, and when her eyes fly up to meet his… he’s grinning, all cocksure and arrogant and so, so beautiful it almost stops her heart.  He’s about as trustworthy as a knife, and twice as dangerous, and she has to get him out of her apartment.

“Maybe,” she says, “I’ll think about it.”

When the door is closed, she sinks back against it.  “Oh lady,” she says, out loud, in a kind of daze.  “You are the stupidest stupid who ever –”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

“Go home, Dan,” she says, and tries not to shiver when he chuckles on the other side of the door. 

She hates him so much.

 

* * *

 

 

She doesn’t really think about him again for a while, too busy hating Karen, hating Selina, hating _everyone_ to waste her time on one drunken kiss. 

But then he calls her and offers her a job and pulls her back from the black hole of “I just torpedoed my entire career” she’d been staring into for the last three days and… and Dan is just about the most unlikely rescuer in the world, but still, that’s what he does. 

When she meets him outside KPM it’s the first time since she walked out of Selina’s suite that she feels even close to steady. 

Not that she’s going to tell him that – he’s still a _shit_ , still planning to use her for his own benefit, she doesn’t think he’s ever _had_ a selfless impulse. 

And nothing has changed, thank god, nothing is different, he’s still the same sarcastic, insincere, rat-bastard he’s always been.  (It’s reassuring).  Any impulse she might have had to feel self-conscious, to flush up because the last time they met he’d been moments away from sticking his hand up her skirt… well, it dies pretty damn quickly.  Clearly it hadn’t made any difference to _Dan_ , so it’s not going to make any difference to her.

Besides, there are so many _other_ things to be embarrassed about. 

She goes to his awful party, because he asks (or, more accurately, harangues her for an hour or so about the need to put herself out there and renew old contacts, and okay, okay, she’ll go buy a dress, since he objects to her blouse for some obscure reason), and after the seventh person has insinuated that she’s mentally unstable, she has had enough.

The last thing she ever expected was that Dan would run after her. 

There are connections to be made, powerful peers to be schmoozed, women to potentially be wined and dined and talked into decisions they will later regret.  That’s basically all of Dan’s favourite things gathered in one room (and with sliders, though she knows he ordered them because he knew she liked them).

They have a blazing row in the parking lot, and she doesn’t even know _what_ they’re fighting about exactly, but when he grabs her arms what little self-control she had left snaps, and she all but attacks his mouth. 

Sleeping with Dan is just about the most stupid, reckless thing she could possibly do, and that’s why she’s doing it.  Why not?  She’s done everything else.

Okay, _technically_ , she doesn’t sleep with him – though she does let him take her home and do just about everything else he can possibly think of. 

And it _works_ , which is the worst part.  He distracts her, sucks up her attention, and she doesn’t have the _energy_ to get angry about…well, her entire life, when he’s made her come three times in forty minutes. 

She stays over, though it’s not on purpose exactly.  Rather, she kind of slumps into sleep on his bed, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.  She’s too sleepy to drive herself home, and she doesn’t really care if Dan objects or not. 

He doesn’t.  He’s not as worn out as she is, not even close, and she’s dimly aware of him checking his phone, answering emails, beside her in the bed.  At some point, she feels him stroke her bare back, his hand lingering on her skin, but he doesn’t snuggle.

She’s not surprised.

And he doesn’t seem surprised either, when she sees him at KPM the next morning (and okay, running out on him at half six might be kind of a dick move, but it’s _Dan_ , it’s not like he’s ever cared about that kind of thing).  She'd bought him a coffee, as a kind of peace offering, and as a bribe.  She doesn’t want to talk about it.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed, exactly, and it’s not that she’s having fucking _feelings_ , it’s…there is enough chaos in her head right now, without Dan adding to it in his own unique way. 

It’s _insane_ , but he is the one reliable thing in her life, and she’d kind of like it to stay that way. 

So, they don’t talk about it, and they plan for the concrete conference, and she tries not to notice when he hits on one of their interns, tries her level best…

But she does.  And she’s pissed.

She thought she’d managed to play it off, but there must have been _something_ in her face, because Dan accosts her right before lunch, taking her elbow in one hand and steering her to a private corner.

She’s snap at him, but what even is the point?  She can’t hide anything, never could, so she might as well…

“You didn’t like it when I –”

“Dan, I don’t care what you do or who you do it to.  It has nothing to do with me.”

“Well that’s not technically true, Ames.”

She rolls her eyes, because of course _this_ is how he would bring it up.  “If you want to get yourself accused of sexual harassment, go right ahead.  I should never have let you pick the interns.”

“Why, because they’re all bright and bossy and sexy?  Can’t help my type.”

“Well, have fun with your _type_ , it’s nothing to me, you can do what you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“It’s just,” Dan lowers his head, looks at her through his eyelashes, “That gives me a lot of room for manoeuvre.”

“Good, enjoy yourself with it.”

And then he’s pushing her backwards into the disabled toilet, bumping against her hips and her boobs, his eyes fixed on hers, and this… this wasn’t what she’d expected.

“What are you doing?”

“What I want.”

He kisses her then, and it’s… _fierce_ , almost demanding, and she loves it, she bends to him, softens herself, grabs on and holds because she _can_.

When he lifts her onto the sink, it doesn’t startle her, doesn’t bring to her senses, no, it just intensifies her fever, and she finds herself shucking her panties off, helping Dan pull them down her legs, not even bothering to slap the smirk off his face.

It’s _not_ overwhelming, is the thing.  She can feel everything, and _everything_ is hard, the sink under her thighs, Dan’s dick inside her, his teeth grazing her neck, his fingers digging into her hips, his pelvis jerking against hers. 

She buries her face in the place where his neck meets his shoulder, the only soft place she can find, and she knows she’s going to get mascara and make-up on his nice white shirt, and she hopes _everyone_ sees it, hopes he can’t ever wash the stain out.

Dan comes first, his breath rasping in her ear, and Amy settles herself against him, content to wait him out.  She didn’t expect – though maybe she _should_ , maybe she should know him better by now – that he’d get her off with his fingers, but that’s what he does, whispering filthy nonsense in her ear the whole time (he likes to feel her wet around him, feel her clench around him, she can tell, and the roughness in his voice makes her shiver).

They barely have time to grab a sandwich before getting back onto the floor, and they don’t talk about it, not at all, too busy glomming onto Congressmen and planning meetings and taking advantage of Tom James’ fuck-up, to broach anything to do with _feelings_.

It’s only later that evening, when the conference is over and they’re walking to her car (because they carpool now, when and how did she agree to that?) that she sees her opportunity.  Dan is smirking, endlessly pleased with himself, because of the day’s success or because of the sex, she doesn’t know which.  “What did Sidney say to you?”

“Hmm?”  She’s trying to dig her keys out of her purse and doesn’t quite hear him.

“Before, when you made… you made a face.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, because it’s twisted.  “He was saying how much he liked our sibling rivalry.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, and his tone is lower, more intimate somehow, “About that?”

She’s going to take control of this.  He’s a slut and a snake and he doesn’t deserve even a minute of her time, so there is no way, no way whatsoever, that she is going to run after him, beg for his attention.  He should consider himself lucky she’ll even deign to be in the same room with him, let alone… but since she will, since she’s been possessed with some insane longing, she is going to make it very clear who is in charge.

“The way I see it, Dan, you have two choices.”  She makes sure she’s facing him square-on, she’s not going to give away even a hint of weakness.  “You can come home with me, and improve on today’s performance… or you can fuck off.”

He steps closer to her, presses her back against her car door, and Amy tries, oh she _tries_ , not to look like she’s trembling, but he can see it, she knows he can.  He leans in closer, biting his lip in a way that she wishes wasn't charming, and when he touches her face, cupping her cheek in one hand, she shivers, she can’t help it.

“Well then I suppose I should count myself lucky you’re giving me another chance.”

“You’re damn well right.”

It takes her twice as long as it should to drive them home, because Dan... the way he keeps _looking_ at her is incredibly distracting.  He doesn’t even have to touch her skin to make her quiver.

She hates him so much.

 

* * *

 

 

They fuck that entire weekend – in Amy’s bed, in her bath, on her couch, in her kitchen.   By the time Sunday evening has come along and he finally goes home, Dan’s so sleep deprived he never even makes it to his bed, tumbling into deep sleep on his couch.

The next day, he can feel the scratches on his back whenever his shirt pulls tight across his shoulders, and he smirks at Amy every time.  She pretends not to notice, and she pretends not blush, and Dan amuses himself picturing the rosy flush rising up her chest underneath that tight little blouse of hers.  She glowers at him, probably suspecting what the look in his eyes means, and he winks at her.

Later that week though, the boot is very much on the other foot.  One of their clients asks Amy to grab a drink with him, to celebrate, and Dan can recognise a predator when he sees one. 

He doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance, and Amy, out of sheer spite, agrees to go on the date, and raises an eyebrow at him, as if asking what his problem is.  (As though she has a leg to stand on, after throwing a full-blown bitch fit at the concrete conference).

They bark at each other all the next day, and Dan makes a point of flirting with Erica in the rec room.  He’d hoped Amy would get jealous, would get angry and stake her claim again, but she just tossed her head and left the room. 

She ignored him for the rest of the day, and eventually he gives into the inevitable, and corners her in the lift, demanding that she go for a drink with _him_.

They settle into an unsteady, wordless compromise after that.  She doesn’t date anyone else, and he doesn’t fuck anyone else, and… it kind of works.  She stops being so damn shy, and hammers on his door when she’s feeling lonely or horny or just plain demanding, and he stops pissing her off, because getting her off is a hell of a lot more satisfying.

They make more money than they know what to do with, and if he thought, for one second, that lobbying made Amy happy… but he knows it doesn't, he knows it’s not really for her, and so he bides his time.

He knew she’d leave eventually – he didn’t know she’d leave him slap bang in the middle of a national broadcast, but… well, should he really have been surprised?  Amy’s as big a drama queen as any politician, however much she might attempt to deny it. 

And there’s been something…different about her, the last month or two.  She’s been sleeping more, collapsing into a deathly sleep every night after he fucks her, and having to be prodded awake in the morning, not complaining about breakfast meetings, but almost inhaling her eggs and even asking for seconds, and… her face looks subtly different, though he couldn’t exactly say how.  And then it crosses his mind that it’s been nearly two months, and they’ve had sex, what, every second day, for all of that?

Which is why, when she suggests he come over to her apartment the evening after the election, so she can catch him up on things, he knows what to do.

A pregnancy test is kind of a strange present to give to the… the specific woman who is not his girlfriend, but all the same, that’s what he does, because he has to know.

Amy doesn’t panic or anything – she’s not the kind of person who panics – but she folds in on herself, huddles over in denial, insists that it has to be stress or something, that going in front of the Congressional committee had screwed up her cycle, and it was all just a coincidence.

When the test comes back positive, she looks like she might cry.  He’s not used to comforting people, not used to wanting to, but he tries, putting his hand over hers and saying, “Don’t worry.  We’ll deal with it.”

“Oh,” Amy says, and she doesn’t look at him.  “Have you got the car ready to take me to the clinic already?”

“Come the fuck on, Ames…”  He’s not a complete barbarian.  “Besides, isn’t that what you want?”

She takes a deep breath, and he can hear the shake in it, like it’s hurting her.  “I don’t know,” she says.  “I never… I hadn’t even thought about this.”

“So… what, you want some illegitimate kid like your sister?”

“I don’t _know_ , Dan, I never… I never thought this would happen, and now it has and… and I need more than thirty seconds to work out exactly what I want, I’m sorry.  Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” he says, “Okay.” 

If he was any kind of decent man, Amy would lean into him now, would let him comfort her, would talk about her fears, her wants, but… but he isn’t, and she knows that.  So, after five minutes of the two of them not talking to each other, she asks him to leave, and he goes. 

After four and a half months of practically living together (it startles him when he realises that's the case… he can count on six fingers the number of days that he _hadn’t_ spent with Amy, one way or another), it’s… _weird_ to be going home alone, and, in an uncharacteristic moment of...caring, or something, he calls her, just before midnight.

He doesn’t call to ask if she’s made up her mind, and he doesn’t call to pressure her – it’s just to check in, to make sure she’s all right, to make sure she’s still talking to him. 

It strikes him as portentous when she tells him she’s going back to Selina.  He can’t think that’s a coincidence, her running back to her old boss, but at the same time… he doesn’t want to push her, not yet.

Which is why he agrees to go to Nevada with her.

Things are _weird_ between them, but as much as his instinct, his _desire_ is to run the hell away from her, to back away and never come back… he can’t leave her alone.  He doesn’t even really want to.

In the abstract, he wants to leave, but when it comes to Amy, when he pictures her face if he tells her she’s on her own… he can’t do it.

They work together like a well-oiled machine, making their case to the Secretary of State, and fighting their corner at the recount, ignoring Jonah and baiting the O’Brien campaign where they can, and the whole time… they don’t even mention it.

There’s a moment, by her door, when he thinks Amy might invite him in, and maybe they can finally _talk_ about things… but her sister shows up.

He’s never particularly _liked_ Sophie Brookheimer, but she is particularly infuriating in this situation – and especially when she corners him in the bar later that evening.  He’s a second away from telling her to fuck off, even if she is Amy's sister, when his phone rings.

It’s Amy, and she tells him to go somewhere he can hear her. 

When he’s finally made it to the hotel foyer, where it’s quiet, she takes a deep breath, and says, “I thought you’d want to know.  You can relax - you dodged the bullet."

"Yeah, your clever code, I'm not getting it."

"I’m not pregnant anymore, so you don’t have to worry.”

“What?  Amy, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” she says, and he thinks he can hear a slight sob.  “Sometimes these things just happen.”

And then she hangs up, and he’s left staring at his phone, and feeling… relieved, he thinks, definitely relieved, but also… 

Before he’s fully thought about it, he’s at her door and hammering.  Sophie can sleep in the corridor, can sleep on the floor, whatever, he’s not leaving her alone tonight.

When she finally opens the door, her expression is dubious, but she lets him in.  Her face is flushed – because she’s tired?  Because she’s upset?  He’s not sure. 

“Are you okay?  Do you need a doctor?”

“I’ll go in the morning,” Amy says, looking at the floor.  “I’m not… it’s done.  I’ll get checked out tomorrow, but I just want to sleep right now.”

“But what about – ”

“I got Sophie her own room – all the better for her to have her Vegas fling, so… _please_ don’t tell her about this.”

“I won’t,” he says, and then he kisses her.  “Are you okay?”

“No,” she says, “I feel terrible.”

They end up on the bed, Amy cuddled up to him in the way she never, ever does.  When they’re not having sex, she’s tended to approach him like his body is an unsprung trap, ready to take her hand off without warning. 

She doesn’t cry or anything, thank god, but he can feel her, breathing him in, slowly relaxing into him, letting at least some of her stiffness go.  He touches her and keeps touching her, because it’s the only thing he can think of that might help – he doesn’t want her _body_ to hurt.

She’s almost asleep when she says, “You can stay, if you want?”

It’s the first time he’s ever considered staying with a woman when sex wasn’t on the table.  “I do,” he says, “I really do.”

And he does.  That night and the next night and the next night.

And when he goes to New Hampshire and realises that he _could_ sleep with other women, Amy would never know, he could take a different woman home every night, he just doesn’t _want_ to… well then things finally become clear. 

He might be in love, but he is going to do it his way. 

They talk it over the night of Jonah is elected. 

Or rather, he shouts, and she shouts, and at some point they have sex out of sheer frustration, when they have finally exhausted all other options, they talk about it like people who are almost adults, and a month or two later, Amy agrees to move to New York with him.

They almost break-up, twice, but that’s only half as much as he expected – and after a year or so, she drags him to City Hall and makes it official. 

Living in sin won’t work for Selina’s Presidential campaign.


	3. Gone Horribly Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU starting from 5.02. The conversation in the bar goes just a little differently.

“So, it’s just little ole you, in that big ole room,” he says, reaching over to touch Amy’s fingers where she’s fiddling with her drink. 

He keeps the touch light, so light it could be ignored, but Amy’s eyes go wide all the same, and…it’s almost encouragement, so he lifts her hand from her glass, and laces his fingers with hers. 

Amy stands, in a rush, almost forgetting their joined hands, and says, “I’m going to go back to that room,” and there’s something that wants to be a stammer in her voice.  “See you later?”

He doesn’t bother answering the question, just pulls her in, so she’s right by his stool, and mutters, “Why wait?” directly into her ear.

Amy nods, and then they’re leaving, together, their hands gradually falling away from each other as they walk through the bar.  She walks ahead of him, her head held high, not looking back for a moment, but staring down at her phone, even when they’re in the lift, even when there’s not a chance she’s receiving anything.

He takes the key card from her when she fumbles it, keeping his movements slow, calm, not wanting to inflame her nervousness further.  She makes a beeline for her charger, plugging her phone in as though it’s about to die, and only looking at him when he closes the door.

The sound of the lock catching seems to echo in the room, but it decides something for Amy, clearly, because she approaches him.  She comes slowly, keeping her eyes on him the whole time.  “It’s okay,” he says, when she stops a few feet away from him.  “I don’t bite.”

“That’s not true and we both know it,” Amy says, and he laughs.  It seems to relax her, all of a sudden, and she gives him that wide smile of hers, all sunshine.

She makes a kind of helpless gesture, and then takes another step, bridging that final gap.  She’s so close her chest brushes against his whenever she takes a breath, and it feels as though every molecule of air between them is charged, vibrating with suppressed energy.

Very slowly, Dan removes his tie, staring down at her and throwing it on the floor like he doesn’t care what happens to it (it’s not a _good_ tie).  She’s biting her lip, and he sees her swallow when he starts to unbutton his shirt.  “Want to help?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re such an ass,” Amy replies, but her eager hands are already fiddling with the lower buttons, her fingertips warm when they brush against his skin.

Between them they get his shirt off, and then Dan pushes her cardigan thing down her shoulders, his fingers lingering over her collarbone, her neck.  Amy responds, laying her hand flat against his chest, her thumb moving back and forth across his skin.

When he kisses her, he doesn’t give warning, just hauls her up against him, lazily swiping his tongue into her mouth when she squeaks in surprise.  But she cooperates, curving herself into him, winding her arms around his neck and standing on her toes like a ballerina to reach him. 

As they kiss, he backs them toward the bed, sliding his hands underneath her tank top as he does so.  When he pushes her onto to the bed, Amy gasps out loud, but loses no time in pulling him down with her.  “I feel dizzy,” she says and Dan smirks.

It’s so _easy_.

It shouldn’t be a surprise of course, he’s good at this, always has been, but… Amy, usually so tense, so tightly wound it can be uncomfortable to look at her, relaxes into his touch, softens to putty in his hands, and grabs at him, pulls him closer, fucking _moans_ when he touches her… 

He finds himself doing things he never does, wanting things he never wants, wanting her to look him in the eye, to say his name when she comes, to try to cuddle.

Afterwards, Amy goes to brush her teeth, and… and he can _feel_ her surprise when she comes out of the bathroom - because he’s still there, still in her bed, he hasn’t left.  She doesn’t say anything though, just gets back in beside him, lying by his side but not quite touching him.  And then they sleep. 

He wakes up the next morning a few minutes after five.

It’s not by choice.

Amy’s phone rang and, while she answered it faster than anyone should answer a phone at five am, it was still loud enough to wake him.  She’s trying to be quiet, he can tell, but still, he can’t help himself, he groans out, “Tell them to fuck off.”

A moment later, Amy’s hand is covering his mouth, and he hears her say, “No, Ma’am, there’s no one else here… I just… had the tv on.”

She’s a terrible fucking liar.

Selina rants to her a little more (he hears the word fuck several times), and when she hangs up, Amy turns over, half resting on his chest, and says, “Thanks asshole.  Are you _trying_ to get us caught?”

“It’s nothing to do with her.”

“Jesus, she already asked me what you were like in bed, if she realised –”

“Oh _did_ she?”

It’s too dark for Amy to see his face, but she can probably tell he’s grinning, because all she says is, “Shut up.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you’re freakishly difficult to read and don’t react to things like a normal human.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he says, stroking her hair, “I think some of my reactions are very recognisable.” 

“If your face ever expressed a feeling that wasn’t anger or disgust, maybe?”

“Can’t you tell what I’m feeling _now_?” 

He pulls her properly on top of him, and Amy says, “You mean that little thing?”

But she bends to kiss him before he can get his retort out, and when they break apart, she has his hands pinned over his head.  He _likes_ when she’s bossy like this.  “I am not being interrogated by Selina about this, things are weird enough already.”

“Okay pumpkin.”

“Do _not_ call me that.”

“Then stop _talking_.”

Amy laughs.  “You are the most impossible person I ever met.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, pulling her head down to kiss her again, “But you like that.”

And then they don’t speak for a while, or at least… the words that are said don’t form part of any conversation.

By the time dawn is finally breaking, and he can see well enough to make out Amy’s face, she’s lying slumped on his chest, half-asleep.  (It reminds him of Gone Girl, though he’s not going to say that to her).

He doesn’t usually let women use him as a giant pillow, but this way his hands can roam over her skin - her shoulders, her back, her bottom - without even having to stretch, and he figures that’s more than worth it.  And Amy’s so fucked-out she doesn’t even protest, just yawns and snuggles closer.  “Did she do that to you?”

“Hmm?”

“Calling at five in the morning, when you were campaign manager?”

“No,” he says, “But I wouldn’t have picked up, I would have been too –”

“Whatever sex joke you’re about to make, can we skip it?”

“I’m also not one of her _best friends_ , remember?”

“Selina doesn’t have friends.”

“Which is why she makes you be her therapist slash relationship counsellor slash gal pal.”

“You really don’t understand what a friend is, do you?”

“Are you going to teach me about friendship, Amy?”

“After I’ve made peace with North Korea, maybe.”

It has to end, of course, their peaceful interlude, and Amy ditches him for breakfast, saying (with a grimace) that she should go meet her sister.  She doesn’t seem to be looking forward to it, and Dan’s suspicions are confirmed when she comes to the office. 

Apparently, Sophie Brookheimer somehow ran into Buddy Calhoun, the Nevada Secretary of State, and took him back to her shitty hotel room.  Amy is, as far as Dan can tell, completely unsurprised by this, but worried that her sister will have somehow broken Calhoun’s pure, decent, straight-laced heart, and he’ll take it out on the Meyer campaign. 

There’s nothing she can do about this though, and he tells her so.  He also reminds her that it could have been worse - it could have been _Jonah_ , in which case Amy could probably look forward to having sasquatch for a brother-in-law.

She’s nervous of him, he can tell, not quite meeting his eyes, and not quite smiling at him, and trying to focus on work above all else.

It’s kind of cute.

Still, he’s not interested in tiptoeing around the subject, and so he approaches her later that evening, suggesting they go for a drink or something.  He can actually see her weighing up her options, and finally she seems to come to some kind of decision, because she agrees and then suggests they get dinner instead,

They’re bickering over which restaurant to go to (out of all four decent restaurants in Carson City), when they run into Bob. 

And running into Bob puts a slight dampener on Dan’s plans for the evening, because it turns out he’s senile (or something), and they spend the whole meal trying to get Ben on the phone and plan a strategy for the meeting the next day, since Bob can’t _not_ attend.

They wind up back at their hotel room doors, politely saying goodnight, and… he can’t quite believe it… but, for all the sideways glances she’s been giving him, Amy goes into her room and closes the door.

Admittedly, she closes the door _slowly_ , which is why Dan immediately knocks.  When she opens it, all he says is, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, you didn’t say anything, so –”

He cuts her off with a kiss, and she lets him, pulling him back into her room and… that settles that.

While they’re in Nevada anyway. 

They don’t talk about it, they just spend every night together, talking and, well, they have less actual sex than Dan would like (the spirit is very much willing, but the flesh… well, they’re both so damn tired that more than once a night is pushing it.  Especially since sex in the morning is apparently something Amy’s keen on, which he would never have guessed).  

And then Amy is called back to D.C.

They stay in touch of course, too busy with work not to, but it’s still… _weird_ when he sees her again.  What happened in… not Las Vegas very much didn’t stay there, and as much as he likes the idea of fucking Amy every morning before work, some kind of ongoing entanglement is not what…so he blows her off when she suggests getting a drink.  (Amy nods, with this bizarre smile on her face, and he realizes she’s not even close to surprised).

If Amy was even remotely capable of being someone’s fuck buddy, that’d be one thing, but she isn’t, he knows she isn’t, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with some big emotional battle… though he almost changes her mind when he sees the dress Selina is going to make her wear for the Congressional Ball.  (He wasn’t _supposed_ to see it, but Amy had had it delivered to the office, and had used a spare five minutes to try it on.  It’s velvet, and mouthwateringly touchable, but Amy huffs with irritation when he goes to run his hand down her side, and backs away from him).

They don’t talk about it till Thanksgiving, and even that’s not intentional.  He came to her house to demand help with Tom James and whatever the fuck he was planning (he _didn’t_ mention that he’d tried to get in on it, since that had been a colossal failure, but obviously Amy would have come with him), and her mother insisted he stay for dinner.

He likes Amy’s family.  Or, well, he likes the idea of them.  Sophie is _awful_ , and Amy’s Dad hates him, and the kids are…kids, loud and annoying and distracting, but taken together, they’re all so… normal, and suburban, and middle-class.  No wonder Amy got into politics, she was basically raised by the democrat party’s core voters.

The kids are too noisy and Amy’s Dad is irritable, and eventually Amy drags him up to her old bedroom so they can talk properly (sharply telling her mother that, no, Dan _doesn’t_ want dessert). 

The room is shockingly normal, with peach coloured walls and old debate trophies and framed photos of Amy all over the place. 

The bed is large, something Dan takes note of while checking out the photos of baby Amy.  At least, he tries to look at them, but Amy pulls them out of his hands, flushing in embarrassment.  “I didn’t bring you up here for some –”

“But I want to see.  Were you a nerd?”

“Dan, focus.”

He slides his arms around her, letting his hands rest not quite on, but just above, her ass.  “Oh, I’m focused, honey.”

Amy huffs, and pushes him back.  “I am not sleeping with you.  Especially when I know the only reason is… you just want to piss off my Dad.”

“Oh, that’s only _part_ of the reason,” he says, leaning in close.  “Don’t talk yourself down.  Besides, maybe it’d do him good.”

“Dan,” she says firmly, stepping out of his hold.  “That’s messed up.”

“Why doesn’t he like me?”

“Are you serious?  Dan, _no one_ likes you.  I probably like you more than anyone else and… even then I can’t stand you at least sixty percent of the time.”

He grins.  “You do like me more than anyone else.”

She rolls her eyes.  “Get over yourself, it’s not saying much.”

“Oh, I think it says a lot.  You _love_ me.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“Sure.  You’re a terrible liar, you know that babe?”

“Shut up, I do not.”

“That’s why you started smiling the moment you opened the door to me.”

“Shut up, you… Dan, you shouldn’t even _be_ here, I’m not your fucking girlfriend or your… you can’t just show up, to my parents’ house, like you belong here, like you have any right to – you have to go.”

He steps closer to her, because he has to, because he’s never seen Amy get that flustered, because it doesn’t matter how many times she tries to deny it, she _does_ love him, this proves it, and… and when he reaches out to touch her face, she shuts the fuck up, and lets him. 

But when his lips touch hers, that seems to break the spell, and she shoves him away.  “You have to go.”

“I don’t _want_ to.”

“Because what?  You think you’ve got some kind of advantage now, is that it?  You think I’ll let you… I’m not going to be your… I can’t _believe_ I let you in again, I should know –”

“Oh please, you enjoyed every second of it.”

 Amy’s face crumples up for a moment, and then she turns her back on him.  “I want you to leave.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Get out.”

“Come on,” he says, making his voice soft, “It’s not like you’ll have more fun with anyone _else_.”

“This isn’t what I want, jesus shitting christ, this isn’t what I want.”  She sounds like she’s about a minute away from some kind of meltdown. 

“Oh, you want the super-steady husband and fifteen kids and a puppy and a –”

“Yes!”  Amy sits down on the bed, and he can tell from her posture, more than anything else, that she’s surprised herself.  “Yes, I want… I want more than an occasional fuck in some miserable hotel room.  I don’t know – I hadn’t even thought about…until just now, but…”

“Because you love me that fucking much.”

“Are you insane?”  Her voice is shaking.  “I would have to be out of my goddamn mind to think that you… to imagine you’re even capable of… you’d break me and twist me up inside and I am fucked up enough already without that endless torment.”  He sees one tear fall, and she dashes it away angrily before saying, “Please go.”

Which…he does.  He’s pushed it already, and if she really doesn’t want him there…

 

* * *

 

 

She convinces Dan to go to New Hampshire.  Mostly it’s so she won’t have to deal with him, though it helps that she knows he’ll do a good job.

She can’t believe she was stupid enough to fall for him – stupid enough to let herself forget what he is, when she ought to know, better than anyone.  And now he knew, and he was going to ruin her life, she knows him, knows it would be…against his DNA not to pursue an advantage when he has one.

She has to limit his opportunities.

Because she feels… she feels like a fucking bomb just went off.  She’d never, never had it in her head to settle down with… with, what, some gonk who wanted to turn her into a Stepford Wife with a baby pink smile?  She’s seen far too many political marriages to want to enter into that kind of bargain – she knows, all too well, that she would never come out ahead.

But all the same… she goes home each night, and doesn’t call Dan, and doesn’t call anyone else, and is this really what she wants?  Crappy hotel rooms and a lonely apartment for the rest of her life and no one to talk to when it hits three a.m. and she’s thought of something brilliant (or something terrible)?  Does she want to turn into Kent, whose most meaningful relationship is with his _cat_?

Buddy Calhoun comes to the Christmas Ball, hoping to meet her, or, more accurately, hoping she’ll help him meet _Sophie_ , and she feels torn between pity and rage.  Pity, because anyone who developed proper romantic feelings for Sophie was in for a rough fucking ride, and rage because… why did everyone else get it?  Sophie had someone, and Candi Caruso had someone, and Amy had… nothing, and no one. 

She’s not in an especially good mood when she goes to New Hampshire. 

She’s even more not in a good mood when Dan has to lift her out of the car Richard parked badly, and takes ostentatious pleasure in doing so, holding her close and rubbing his hands up her body, trying to make her _react_ , because he knows he can.

Which is why she ditches him and goes straight to bed, saying they can talk strategy in the morning.

At least, that was the plan.

Except, it’s _freezing_ in her hotel room – she’s not sure what the problem is, either the heating is broken or there’s a hole in the floor somewhere, but she can actually see her breath. 

The receptionist tells her that there aren’t any other rooms in the hotel, and helpfully suggests that she sleep under her coat, which…

Well, she tries.  She really does _try_. 

But it’s so cold she can’t sleep, and when she calls Richard to ask if she can sleep in his room, he’s either too drunk or too stupid to understand her, and she is _not_ calling Jonah.  There are limits.

But Dan’s room is right next to hers – and while she’s been trying _not_ to listen, she’s pretty sure he’s alone in there.  (Or just not there at all).

Which is why she ends up knocking on his door at five minutes to one, wrapped in her big blue coat, and hoping like hell he’ll let her in.

His grin is obscene when he opens the door, and she doesn’t even care, she just pushes past him, desperate to get inside where it’s warm. 

“I knew you wanted to jump my bones, Ames, but – ”

“Shut up,” she says, rubbing her hands together, trying to generate heat.  “I’ll sleep on the couch, I’m not trying to –”

Dan’s about to argue with her, but he touches her arm and starts at how cold she is.  “Don’t be stupid,” he says, “Get in where it’s warm.”

“I tried, you know, I wasn’t going to –”  He waves off her explanations, and pushes her towards the bed. 

His side of the bed, she realizes, once she’s in, since it’s already warm.  She tries not to think about how many _other_ women have probably slept where she is, and wills herself not to shiver.

It takes a couple of minutes, but finally Dan breaks the silence.  “So, are you talking to me again?”

“No,” she says, and starts when he wraps an arm around her (but having him so close does help).  “You’re still a shit.”

“That’s always been true.  Never made you freak out before.”

“It’s not that,” she says, biting her lip.  “It’s not _only_ that.  Everything’s so… if _Jonah_ doesn’t win, and even if he does, our entire careers could fall apart when the vote happens.  And, even if we win, even if… this can’t be the rest of my life, shitty hotel rooms and being alone all the time and sleeping with… with men who can’t even _pretend_ to care about… that cannot be my life.  I won’t let it.  I am not ending up like Selina, and you shouldn’t want that either, she’s _miserable._   But that’s all it’s been for… I mean there’s you, and… and it’s not like Ed was a prince.”

Dan’s arm tightens around her, and he says, “I fucking hated that guy.”

“Grow up,” she says.  “You don’t get to be jealous.  And he’s not even in the picture anymore, so…”

“I still hate him.” 

“Yeah, well, I hate you, so that makes us even.”

“No, you don’t,” he says, his voice teasing, maddening, in her ear.  “You love me.”

“Go to sleep, Dan.”

“With pleasure, now you’re here, all warm, and soft, and – I could get used to this.”

She elbows him in the stomach, just on general principle, and he crushes her in retaliation, and eventually, they sleep.

Naturally, because her life is some kind of romantic comedy by way of a toxic waste dump, the hotel can’t get her another room until after the election – and of course the campaign won’t pay for her to stay in the town’s only _decent_ hotel – and Dan all but throws a fit when she suggests sharing with Richard instead.

They don’t sleep together… well, they don’t sleep together until the night Jonah’s elected, and… and that was probably inevitable.  A mistake, but one she never had a chance of not making.  (A mistake she makes more than once – a mistake that makes her blush every time she remembers it).

They lose the vote in the House – Laura Montez is inaugurated – Dan tells her he’s moving to New York and watches her reaction, because of course he wants her to cry – and her Dad has a heart attack.

By the end of January she wants to crawl into her bed and never get out.  No one wants to interview her, let alone give her a job, her mother is using her as an assistant carer, since she doesn’t have anything else to do, and Sophie’s taking every opportunity to remind Amy that she’s out of work and useless, not achieving anything now. 

She gets a weird message on LinkedIn, from some hedge fund manager who’s got it into her head that she can be Governor of New York, and, in a fit of desperation, she replies.  A job is a job, after all, and at least this one will pay.

She sets up a meeting and, doubting herself the entire time, texts Dan to tell him she’ll be in New York, and does he want to meet up?

She’s a nervous wreck in the days leading up to the trip, reviewing her resumé in her head, trying to come up with explanations for the more egregious fuck-ups, and not thinking about what might happen with Dan, not at all.

She’s a nervous wreck until the day she gets to New York, in fact.  Because the first thing she does, when she checks in to her hotel room, is a pregnancy test. 

They’d used condoms, so she was almost certain that she couldn’t be… but it had been two months since she’d had a period and, while it’s virtually impossible, she needs to _know_ one way or another. 

She’s so sure it’s impossible, that the five minutes she has to wait for the test to work feel like any other five minutes, not nerve-wracking in the least.  She’ll see the little minus sign, and she’ll be able to go into her interview with the confidence of a woman who knows she hasn’t been knocked up by a mildly more functional Patrick Bateman.

Only it’s not a minus sign.

It’s a big, pink plus. 

Everything else has gone wrong, why not this?

She has a bout of hysterical laughter, only sobering up when she sees the time on her phone, and realizes she has to dress for her interview. 

An interview which she nails, by the way, because there’s nothing that eases the mind like an unplanned pregnancy.  She doesn’t have the mental energy to be nervous about a _job interview_ when her whole life might be about to enter the shitter.

She really hadn’t intended to tell Dan.

Insofar as she’d intended anything, she’d intended to make a decision first, to tell him only when her mind was completely made up (and only if she _had_ to.  He would never need to know about a trip to Planned Parenthood). 

But, since she’s already pregnant, she figures why the hell not, why not bring him back to her hotel room, why not fuck his brains out?

Only her Mom calls, to hear about the interview, and by the time Amy’s got rid of her, Dan has gone to the bathroom, and… and it’s entirely not surprising when he storms out with the little white stick in his hand.

“What.  The.  Fuck.  Amy?  Is this what I think it is?”

“I don’t know, what do you think it is?”

“Is it mine?”

She folds her arms, and won’t quite look at him.  “Unlike you, I don’t… yes, of course it’s yours.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“Thanks, that’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

“When were you planning to tell me?”

“I hadn’t got that far yet,” she says, still staring at the floor, “I’ve mostly been stuck on the ‘oh god, oh god, I’ve ruined my life’ part, so…”

“Don’t be such a fucking drama queen.”

“What?”

Dan sits on the bed, looking at her with that canny look he gets when he thinks he’s being brilliant.  “You have two options – get rid of it, or have it, and then… we do this thing for real.”

“You’ve never done anything for real in your life, why would you even –”

Dan takes her hand, and pulls her into him, so she’s standing between his knees.  Sitting, he’s very slightly shorter than her, which makes it harder for her to hide.  “You want to know something fucked up?”

“Spare me.”

“That week in Nevada… that was the best time I've had since...that’s what _I_ want.”

“You can’t mean that, you’re just trying to, I don’t know, fluff me or something,” she says, and she’s crying, she fucking hates herself for it.

“Ames, come on – when have I _ever_ had a problem saying the shitty thing and making you upset?  Why do you think I sent your resumé to –”

“That was you?”

Dan shrugs.  “I knew you’d be too chicken to talk yourself up.”

“So, what, you… you found me a job in New York, out of what, the goodness of your fucking heart?”

“No, I found you a job in New York because I want you _here_.”

She kisses him then – taking his head in her hands and pressing him back into the bed.  She’s half-laughing, half-crying, and when they finally break apart, Dan says, “When do you have to check out?”

“Not until noon.”

He grins up at her then, all dark, wicked eyes, and she laughs properly, pinning his arms over his head.

“You’re such a _shit_.”


	4. All's Well That Ends Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU starting 5.03

“Goodnight, have a pleasant evening, and I had sex with your sister.”

Amy mutters something after him, and it all boils up.  She’s been ignoring him but not really all day, sliding bitchy little comments in his direction but refusing to engage with him beyond that, so he turns around, he can’t help it.

“What is your fucking problem?"

"I don't know," Amy says, staring down at the document she's pretending to read.  "You.  Sophie.  Fucking Bob."

"Yeah, sure, Bob's the one who's got you acting like someone squeezed bleach up your –"

"Fuck you, I have enough to deal with without – it had to be _her_?  You couldn't have found some, I don't –"

"Well, if it bothers you so fucking much, why didn't you do something about it?"

"I did.  You know that I did," Amy says, her face all scrunched up and pink with anger.  "It didn't stop you from –"

"From what?"

"I should have known, I should have _known_ , I'm so fucking stupid to think – I can't believe –"

"Amy," he says, and his voice cracks like a whip.  "What the blistering fuck are you talking about?"

She stares at him for a second, and he can almost see the calculation happening behind those big eyes of hers.  "Nothing," she says, and her face...wobbles, just a little, just enough that he sees it.

"Yeah, cause you're someone who gets all wound up over nothing."  He steps closer, so he's right by her desk, and the way she twitches, he can tell she doesn't like it.

"What," she says, all sharp, all vicious edges, "You want me to believe you were too busy with... to check your phone?"

"No.  Obviously I checked it, I'm not some five year old amateur."

"Right," Amy says, and she starts to pack up her purse.  "Well then there's nothing to talk about, is there?"

She stands, and goes to walk past him, and he stops her, gripping her lightly by the upper arm.  "I don't think that's true, I think there's a lot to talk about."

He could pick her up and breathe her right in, she's so close, so it's not a surprise when she wrenches her arm out of his grasp, and walks for the door, saying, "You made your fucking choice.  I just hope CVS is worth it."

He follows her every step of the way, breathing down her neck, because he gets it now, he _has_ her.  "Oh, did you invite me up to your room for some little nightcap, is that why you're pissed, is that what it was?"

"Shut up."

"Might want to work on your drunk texting skills, Ames.  Maybe make sure you actually send the message before you get pissed at me."

"You're lying," she says, snaps it out as if by instinct, trying and failing to pull her coat on.

"No, baby. I'm not."

"You mean, you didn't... you didn't see - oh _god_."  Her voice cracks as the realisation hits her, and her coat falls, forgotten, to the floor.

"I always knew you wanted me."

Amy's hand is clenched, over her mouth, and she looks... terrified.  Her lips are trembling - her whole jaw is shaking - but she seems transfixed, her eyes focused on him like he's dangerous.

"So last night, the whole time I was with Sophie," he sees her flinch at that, at his even saying her name, and he uses the opportunity.  "You were what, hoping I'd come knocking on your door?  All wound up waiting for me?  That must have been torture, all that tension, just _aching_ to be... whatever did you do?"

He bends his head - to kiss her, maybe, or whisper in her ear, he's not sure which – and that's when Amy shoves him away from her, with a sound that's a lot like a sob.  It's a desperate act, and it doesn't move him more than an inch or two, but any impulse he had to pull her back in dies when he sees her face.

She's hiding, behind her hair, hanging her head, which is why it took him so long to see, but... tear tracks.  She's trembling, trying to hold it in, the way she always does, and the moment he recognises what's happening, he backs away, takes his hands off her.

"Ames," he says, and trails off.  She wasn't supposed to...

"It's my fault," Amy says, swiping at the tears, her fingers pulling at the skin of her face in a way that hurts to see almost.  He can hear the struggle to remain calm in her voice.  "I should never have imagined you –"

And then Bob interrupts them, and he must have Alzheimers or something, because he barely seems to know where he is, and by the time Dan's got him calmed down, Amy's slipped out of the room.

But she left her coat behind, on the floor where it fell, which gives him pause.

She doesn't answer her phone when he calls, or her door when he knocks, not even when he talks to her through it (he's sure she's listening though, he swears, he can almost hear her breath through the door).  He even calls her hotel room, thinking he'll trick her, but she must know, or suspect, it's him, because she doesn't pick up.

He gets up early the next morning, figuring he'll wait her out, she has to eat sometime.  Admittedly, it means he gets stuck having breakfast with Richard and Jonah, and... turns out it's not worth it in the end, because she never shows up.  When they get to the campaign headquarters, she's conferencing with Ben, and barely acknowledges him.

He only gets her attention when he mentions about Bob being less than compos mentis, and even that doesn't last, since Selina and Ben won't hear of Bob being replaced.  And the moment it's over she zooms away, saying she has to dig into the demographic data Kent mentioned, which... he knows bullshit when he hears it.

So, ten minutes after she's shut her door, he strides in, not bothering to knock.  Amy's head is down, reviewing a list of vote totals, but she doesn't start or jump at his entrance.  She doesn't even look up, saying, "Go away, Dan," in a weary tone of voice.

"So you are talking to me?"

Amy meets his eyes then, and she looks... she looks terrible, in all honesty.  By her face, it's clear she hasn't slept much, but it's her expression that really... she'd been so lively before, but now... It's not that she looks devastated or anything, she doesn't, she looks... hopeless.  Like nothing he could do, nothing he could say, would shock her at this point, like she's just waiting for the inevitable.

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to –"

"What?"

Her stomach rumbles, loudly, and he lets himself smile.  "Have you considered eating at all?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it."

"I'm _not_ hungry.  Now unless you have something I need to know –"

"It was crap," he says, and sees her face twitch as she tries not to react.  "Is that what you want to know?"

"I don't want to know _anything,_ you sick fuck, what is wrong with you?  Go brag to Jonah if you want to be congratulated on nailing sisters, if you're so fucking proud of yourself, leave me out of it."

"For fuck's sake, I didn't _know_."

"Oh, because it would have made such a difference, would it?  You'd have said to yourself, 'No, I'll skip CBS' if you knew I –"

"You what?"  (There's a part of him, a part he's trying to tamp down, for now at least, that really wants to know what she'd had in mind).

"It doesn't matter.  Guess you have confirmation finally, I'm just as stupid as the rest of them."

"Yeah, I do."

"Good," Amy says, and for a moment, just a moment, he wishes she'd cry.  Cry, throw things, call him the asshole he almost certainly is – anything would be better than that still, flayed look on her face.  "Now get out."

He stays where he is, hoping to make her crack through his mere presence, but she doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge him, and when she answers a call from Kent he gives up, and goes to prep with Bob and Richard for the meeting.

He doesn't have a good feeling about any of it, and, as usual, events live down to his expectations.  It's only Amy's brainwave, working out where the missing votes are, that keeps them in the game, but congratulating her on that fact doesn't soften her at all.

In fact, the only thing that even comes close to getting her to unclench is when the Secretary of State drops by to invite the campaign staff for dinner.  It's some West Wing-style bullshit about them being respectful competitors or something, and Dan's expecting Amy to cut him off at the knees the way he deserves.

But she doesn't.  Instead she agrees to attend, as a representative of the Meyer campaign, and the way Buddy Calhoun's eyes light up, Dan can tell idealism wasn't his primary motivation, whatever he might _say_.

Which is why he invites himself along, though he can tell Amy doesn't want him there.  He knows it's the right instinct when he sees how she's dressed.  It's not that her dress is flashy as such, but it is black and... and _tight_ , and it looks exactly like something Sophie would choose.

The dinner is dull as shit, naturally, and he almost can't believe Amy likes the dope, but she laughs at his jokes and teases him about Jonah imitating his cowboy boots and, entirely unfairly, Dan is left to entertain the fuckheads from the O'Brien campaign.  He doesn't think she's attracted to Calhoun, not really, but it pisses him off all the same. 

She barely looks at him as they walk back to their hotel rooms, and if her keycard hadn't acted up again, she probably wouldn't have spoken to him.  But it does, and Amy can't hide her huff of irritation, and before he's really thought about it, Dan is offering to help, hanging over her shoulder the same way he had...was it really only two nights ago?

Amy pushes him, none-too-gently, back with her shoulder, hitting him right in the middle of his chest, and, pissed off, he says, "Only trying to help sweetheart."

"Well _don't_."

"Jesus fucking christ, I'm sorry, all right?"

"No you're _not_ ," Amy says, her voice fierce and...wobbling the way it always does when she's angry.  "You're two seconds from telling me I'm overreacting or something.  If you're sorry for anything, it's that you didn't get CBS, it has nothing to do with me."

"Yes," he says.  How is it possible she doesn't get this?  "I wouldn't fuck you over for _nothing_ , don't you know that?"

Amy shakes her head, and turns to face him properly.  "Is that... supposed to make me feel better?   How fucked in the head are you?"

"I almost didn't... I thought about not doing it, you know." 

He thinks this might placate her.  He's wrong.

"What, for five whole seconds you wrestled with your conscience?  Sounds likely - especially since you won.  But then it's not as though it would have been much of a struggle, now would it?"

The way Amy's eyes are burning into him, he finds himself wishing, again, that she'd just let herself cry.  But all the same, he’s not taking the blame for this situation, it never would have happened if she’d just…

“Why didn’t you _say_ something?”

“What?”

“In the bar, you could have just _said_ , I never would have –”

“I am not responsible for you’re…  and obviously you didn’t notice, but I _tried_.” 

He rolls his eyes.  “That was meant to be an invitation?  No wonder you’re single.  How obvious did you need me to be?”

“How was I supposed to _know_ you weren’t just fucking with me again?”

“Come the fuck on.”

“It’s what you _do_.  And I still _tried_ , but, it’s hard with you, I can’t tell, and… and I was nervous.”

“Oh _really_ ,” Dan says, and he steps closer to her, backing her up against the door.

“It’s not a compliment, so don’t –”

He kisses her, her cheek, her temple, her jaw, her sweet lips, and keeps kissing her, his hands holding her face in place, and when he finally stops, he rests his forehead against hers.  She’s trembling, he can feel it, and his voice is _rough_ when he says, “Invite me in.”

“Not a chance.”

“Invite me in and I’ll make you forget it even happened.”

“No,” Amy says, “You won’t.  Not ever.”

She puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back an inch or two – more firmly than he’d have expected her to manage – and…and he doesn’t know what to do next.  No one’s ever turned him down before. 

Amy turns and unlocks her door, and when she says goodnight, he hears a definite sob in her voice.  But before he can say anything, do anything, the door is closed and she’s gone.

Fucked off with everything, he goes down to the bar and picks up a BBC producer in town for the election.  At least he can get something out of the evening, and if, semi-deliberately, he lets Amy see her leaving the next morning that… well, it doesn’t work the way he’d wanted it to, after all, because she barely reacts.  She doesn’t even seem _surprised_. 

They continue to work together, and… and it’s not fine, it’s off in half a dozen different ways he can’t quite describe.  Amy _has_ to work with him, _has_ to rely on him when the other options are Jonah and Richard, but it’s clear she doesn’t want to.  She abandons him every chance she gets, and when they do strategise, there’s no…back and forth, no banter. 

It’s worse even than when he first came to work for Selina, at least then she fought with him.  Now she won’t even do that, she just slides out of conversations with him and goes to waste time on Buddy Fucking Calhoun.

Dan hates him.  Like _really_ hates him.

He doesn’t know much of anything about him, and he _seems_ harmless enough, but every time Amy comes back from talking to him with a smile on her face, Dan wants to punch something.  He doesn’t make any comments to Amy about it though – well, he doesn’t make any _more_ comments to Amy about it, not after seeing her face the first time.  He tries to joke about it, lighten her up, but nothing works, she doesn’t even smile. 

When Amy flies back to DC without even telling him, he starts to feel like something important is slipping through his fingers.  Which might be why he – idiotically, in retrospect – asks her out the first time he sees her after coming back from Nevada. 

He doesn’t know how she might have answered, because… _fuck_ Sophie Brookheimer and her god-awful timing.  Amy must have seen something in his face when he looked at his phone, because her tone is icy when she says, “I think you have to take a call from my _sister_.” 

And then she walks away from him.

 

* * *

 

 

Amy is not a forgiving person. 

She knows this, because she’s not an idiot, and she knows this because her mother said it was one of her worst qualities, and she knows this because it takes weeks before she can stand to look Dan in the face after he fucks Sophie. 

Which was bad enough, but then she’d had to go and make things worse for herself, she’d had to open her stupid gaping mouth and _tell_ him… every time she remembers that moment she cringes, even if only inside, because why, _why_ , did she have to be so stupid?  Why couldn’t she have had the sense to keep her mouth _shut_?

Every time she thinks about it – every time she has to be in the same room as him – she feels _raw_ , naked and exposed and about twenty years old.  Every time she hears his voice she wants to cry, because she’s so fucking _angry_ , and she’s not sure if she’s more angry with him or herself.

She knew what he was, after all, and yet she still… she still…let him suck her in again, let herself believe there was _anything_ real between them, she still fell for him the same stupid way, she hasn’t learned a damn thing.

When he shows up at her parents’ house at Thanksgiving, she thinks she may actually kill him.  Fortunately, she was able to get rid of him before her mother realises he’s there, but it’s a close run thing, and he still fucking _waits_ outside the house until she leaves. 

Stalking was not the kind of asshole behaviour she ever expected from him, and she tells him so when she climbs into the passenger seat of his car.  He rolls his eyes at her, and starts to drive her home (her original plan had been to get a cab so, technically, this constituted a favour), telling her all about the horror show of his day with Tom James.

It’s the most she’s heard him talk since Nevada, and if she didn’t feel…so blasted _small_ beside him, she might even have enjoyed it, but as is… the whole thing feels like a bad joke he’s playing on her.  Tom James is clearly being shady as fuck, but there’s nothing Amy can do about that, and she doesn’t understand why it was so urgent Dan couldn’t have waited, why he had to show up at her _family’s_ dinner and…

When he pulls up outside her apartment, he leans closer to her, eyes dancing, and says, “Going to offer me a nightcap?”

And she bursts into tears.

She bursts into fucking tears.  She’s been dealing with Sophie all day, and she’s exhausted from the cold she has, and he keeps playing with her and tormenting her, and even so… it is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to her. 

And she can’t stop it.  It’s like the tears are coming from some…essential place, right at the root of her lungs, and the more she tries to hold them back the harder they come, and the sounds she’s making are horrendous, like some wounded fucking animal, and she’s trying to cover her face and open his car door and get the hell away from him all at once, and she can’t even look at him to see if he’s laughing. 

Later, she doesn’t remember how she got up the steps and into her apartment, but she manages it, somehow, because the next thing she _does_ remember is Dan calling her, endlessly, draining down the battery of her phone while she stares at it and doesn’t pick up.

She doesn’t go into work the next day, tells Ben she’ll work from home, she’s too ill, she’ll just give everyone her cold.  She hasn’t taken a sick day in years, but he seems to accept it – and if he hadn’t, she’s not sure what she’d have done, because she _couldn’t_ face seeing Dan again so soon.

Unfortunately, Ben _also_ calls her later in the day to ask her to convince Dan to take the Jonah job, which…reluctantly, she agrees to.  As much as she does not want to exchange words with him, she knows this could be a win-win for her – she won’t have to see him for a month or two, and maybe, maybe, with Dan handling him, Jonah will avoid insulting _every_ voter in New Hampshire.

So, she calls him.  And his tone when he answers is… is not what she expected.  He’s warm, like he’s happy to hear from her, but she’s not falling for that again, no way. 

“Take the Jonah job,” she says, interrupting whatever bullshit he was about to sell her.

“Are you out of your –”

“ _Take_ it.  You win and everyone knows you’re at least half as good as you’ve always said you are – you lose, and no one cares, because it’s _Jonah_.”

Dan pauses, and there’s a calculated tone in his voice when he speaks that she doesn’t like.  “Why do _you_ want me to take it?”

“Because I won’t have to look at you for a month, so it works out really well for me.”

“Ames, come on, you know you’re going to miss me.”

There is absolutely no point in trying to hide anything anymore, so all she says is, “No, I won’t.  I’m sick of feeling this way.”

“And you think banishing me to the outer darkness is going to help with that?”

“Well going back in time and never having met you isn’t an option, so I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’m not going away, you know.”

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do – that’s what we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, and then I’ll come back and… you’ll have to face me sometime.”

“No,” she says, “I don’t.  You’re _nothing_ , I don’t have to have anything to do with you if I don’t want to, and guess what…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“Good.”

And that’s the last time they speak for a month or so.  It’s such a relief not to have to see him every day, to be able to go to work without having to put her armour on, Amy knows convincing him to go to New Hampshire was the right decision – was the _only_ decision. 

She plans to focus on the job, on getting Selina elected, and that’s what she does, mostly.  She hadn’t _planned_ to fall into some kind of whirlwind with Buddy Calhoun, but he’s there and he’s interested and it’s been so _long_ since she’s kissed someone, let alone…

Admittedly, she still gets into a fight with Ben when he tells her she’s being sent to help with Jonah’s campaign, because it is the very last thing she wants to do… but Ben, unsurprisingly, has no time for her quote unquote adolescent sensitivities, and she finds herself on the shuttle to Manchester a few days before Christmas.

She’s jittery about having to see Dan again, and Richard updating her on the campaign during the drive back to the office doesn’t help much.  She blows off the suggested strategy session, saying she needs to sleep (which is actually true) and they can talk about it in the morning.

Dan gives her this _look_ , like he knows what she’s doing, but he doesn’t say anything (for the first time in recorded history) just lets her go.

He seems to be on his best behaviour (so still pretty shitty) the whole time, and she can almost relax and pretend it’s like when they first started working together. 

At least, for the first day or two.  The night before the election, Jonah’s giving his concluding speech in the final debate, and she’s texting Buddy about it when Dan complains in her ear about her spending so much time on her fucking phone.

“I’ll text my boyfriend whenever I feel like it.”

“Your – what?”  He looks at her screen.  “You are not dating that fucking hillbilly.”

“I am,” she says.  “I’m going back to Nevada to see him, once the vote’s done.  He asked me to.”

“So you fucked him,” Dan says, and he looks slightly manic.

“That’s what people normally do in relationships.  And it was great, if you’re curious.”  (A half-lie doesn’t count).

“Oh, I doubt that extremely,” Dan says, and steps closer to her.  “You forget, Amy, I _know_ what a well-fucked woman looks like, and I know what _you_ look like when –”

“You think you do.”

“No, darling, I know.  You wouldn’t be pining for me so much if I was terrible in –”

“Fuck you.”

“Besides, no one with a functioning mind would believe that fucker has even half a clue what to do with a woman like you.”

“It’s more than you have.  And it’s not like I’m that hard to figure out.”

Dan sighs, pressing his lips together, and she gets the feeling she’s straining his patience.

Good.

“Enlighten me.”

“He’s… good to me,” she says, struggling to put Buddy’s appeal into words.  “He actually wants me to feel good, and he wouldn’t ever – you should take notes.  This stuff is obvious to most people, but I think you might need to study it.”

“Are you really that blind?”  She doesn’t like the look on his face, not one bit.  “You’re the hottest woman he’s ever seen in real life, and he wants you to keep fucking him.  Unless he’s a brand new kind of stupid, he’s not going to piss you off.”

Amy blinks at him. 

It’s the first time he’s complimented her looks (well, not the first time, but the first time that might be sincere), and yet the implication…

“It is just impossible to you that someone might really want to be with me, isn’t it?  Do you think everyone is like you?”

“No, I think I’m better.  And definitely better than that jawless yokel, especially when it comes to you.”

“Yeah, you’re so much better than someone who’s capable of actual kindness,” Amy says, and pointedly goes back to texting.

Jonah gets elected, and they go back to DC, and they don’t talk much.  Once the votes have happened Amy doesn’t really want to talk to anyone anyway, and the flight out to Carson City is an incredible relief – four and a half blissful hours of silence.

Dan tells her he’s doing the CNN broadcast, which makes things easier – she won’t have to see him when she gets back to DC.

At least, that had been her expectation. 

But she’d agreed to go to the Inauguration Ball with Buddy since he’d been invited (though she’d prefer to be in a dive bar somewhere, nursing however many whiskeys were needed to kill the day).  She’d honestly expected she’d be the only Meyer-staffer there, and so she relaxed.  But round about ten thirty, she noticed she had nine missed calls from her Mom, which… so she stepped outside, telling Buddy she’d only be a moment. 

She spends the next fifteen minutes trying to call her Mom, her Dad, and even Sophie, and getting mildly freaked out when they don’t pick up. 

She only realises she’s not alone when someone puts their jacket around her shoulders, and she says, “Thanks Buddy,” almost automatically. 

Only of course it isn’t Buddy, of course it’s Dan, and for half a second she’s tempted to take the jacket off, throw it right in his face (and she would, but she’s cold).

“What are you doing here?”

“CBS invited me,” he says, and he’s clearly delighted with something.  “Since I’m their newest hire.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, Ames,” he says, and he steps into her space, bracketing her with his arms, “Since I elected a giant to Congress, I’m a hot fucking property.”

“Get over yourself – if it weren’t for me, you’d never have –”

“I know,” Dan says, and he’s very, very close now, she can see the shadows his eyelashes cast on his cheeks.  “I owe you one.”

“That’s been true forever.”

He cups her face with one hand, his thumb stroking her cheekbone, and he’s so gentle when he tilts her jaw up with the tips of his fingers.  “I wouldn't have done it without you,” he says, and then he’s kissing her.

It’s not like it was before, outside her hotel room, he’s _insistent_ , he pulls her all the way into him, kissing her like he wants to devour her, letting his hands roam all over her body, and… she shouldn’t let him, she _shouldn’t_ , but she’s been fighting herself for so long, and fighting him too is impossible. 

He’s got one hand under her skirt, groping her thigh, and his teeth pulling at her lower lip, when her phone finally rings, and Amy has to pull away, gasping just a little.

It’s Sophie, and just seeing her name on the screen is a dash of cold water.  They _cannot_ do this, Amy is not going to be this stupid a third time.

“I have to take this.”

“Okay,” Dan says, moving his mouth to her neck.

She has to push him away so she can concentrate on the call, because Sophie is all but incoherent, shouting and crying and not even answering her questions, and when Amy finally figures out what’s happened, her knees go weak for a moment, and she staggers, clinging onto Dan’s arm blindly.

“My Dad’s had a heart attack,” she says, and this thin, scared little voice doesn’t even sound like her.  “He’s going into surgery right now, they don’t… they don’t know if he’s going to make… I have to go, I have to…I can’t stay, Sophie said he might…his heart stopped on the way to the…I gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, and his voice is low, almost like he’s serious.

He walks her out of the hotel, his hand warm on her elbow (and usually, usually she hates it when men do that, but right now…).  He doesn’t tell her everything will be all right, and he doesn’t spew any nonsense about her being brave, and he doesn’t offer to come with her. 

But he does put her into a cab, and it’s only when she sinks back against the seat that Amy realises… she never told Buddy. 

And she’s still wearing Dan’s jacket.

 

* * *

 

 

He gets serious brownie points for stepping in when Amy’s father looked like he might be dying.  He knows, because she starts communicating with him again, at least intermittently.

He’s commuting, kind of, back and forth between DC and New York – it’s not a situation that can last, he knows that, he doesn’t even want it to, but for now at least it’s sufficient.  He’s fairly confident they’re going to offer him something permanent soon, but until that happens it’s worth hanging around DC, keeping his hand in.

It also means he can drag Amy for drinks every few weeks – or he can try.  She flatly refuses to see him in any situation involving alcohol, and no matter how many jokes he makes about it, only agrees to see him for coffee.

She’s not in a good way, he can tell.  Her Dad was in intensive care for two full weeks, and even afterwards… well, Amy doesn’t exactly _say_ this, but he can tell the recovery is rough on her.  Her family are insufferable even when everyone’s in the pink of health, so what they’re like in this situation…

It also doesn’t help that Buddy Fucking Calhoun keeps sniffing around her, trying to _help_ , he says – but Dan knows that trick, he’s tried it himself once or twice, and he doesn’t trust him for one second.  Not that it matters to Amy – every time he suggests that maybe, just maybe, Buddy isn’t on the level, she sneers at him.

That she’s struggling to get a job is not helping, but he doesn’t take the threat seriously.  Not until he texts her one day in April, and she immediately calls him back.

“I’m not coming,” she says, and he grins to himself, just a little.

“Well, I’m not surprised when you’re with –”

“I’m not meeting you, is what I meant.”  There’s a pause, and then he hears her take a deep breath.  “Buddy asked me to marry him, and… and I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m going to say yes.”

“No, you fucking aren’t!”

“Yeah, I am.  I’m flying out to Nevada tomorrow first thing to surprise him, so… I’m not going to see you anymore.”

“What?  You’re not going to ditch me for the ghost of westerns past, don’t be fucking stupid.”

“Yes, I _am_.  He has a plan, we’re going to be _partners_ and I’m going to run his campaign, and –”

“And, what, have a trio of blonde babies?”

“Yes!  Maybe, we’ve talked about it, I don’t know.  Maybe I want that.”

“You barely know him, Ames, how do you know you can build some kind of fantasy life with… even if I wasn’t… it’s still stupid.”

“I could have just… dropped you, you know, it’s what you deserve, I didn’t have to tell you.”

“No,” he says, “You didn’t.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Amy hangs up, having done what she set out to do.  Which… he knows his girl. 

She didn’t call him because she was sure.  She called him because she _wasn’t_.

And it’s easy to book a flight – a red eye – that’ll get him into Carson City ahead of her.  (The first DC flight doesn’t arrive until mid-afternoon). 

It’s _insane_ , but there’s been months of this push-pull and he’s sick of it… so he packs an overnight bag and takes a taxi to JFK.  He feels like shit when he lands in Carson City, but the airport has a shower room and acceptable coffee, so he manages to make himself feel slightly human. 

He has a plan, and he needs to be on his game if he’s going to carry it out.

Amy’s flight doesn’t arrive for a couple of hours, so he arranges a car hire and does some strategic googling while waiting for her.

When the DC flight is announced as having landed, he gets up and stands in front of arrivals – and Amy’s face when she sees him is a picture. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Stopping you from making a colossal mistake.”

“I don’t… understand, you’re supposed to be back in New York, fucking junior producers and –”

“And I’m not.  We’re talking about this.”

“No, we’re _not_.  You don’t get a say in this, do you not understand that?  I only told you as…as I don’t know, a courtesy or –”

“You told me, because deep down, you know this isn’t what you want.”

Amy rolls her eyes.  “As though you have any idea what I want.”

“When did he ask?”

She looks away from him, shifting uncomfortably.  “Three weeks ago.”

“And it took you _three_ weeks to work out if you wanted to be with him or not?”

“This isn’t any of your business.”

“You made it my business when you called me.  Look,” he says, putting his hand on her arm.  “Give me twenty-four hours, and if you still want to… I’ll back off.  Buddy’ll never know.”

“I am not having sex with you.”

He laughs then, and starts to walk them out of the airport.  “We’ll see about that,” he says, “Now, do you want food?  It’s a bit of a drive.”

In the end, they stop at a diner outside of the city, and Amy gets a burger and fries, while he swallows as much coffee as he can manage. 

He’d really rather not do the driving, but if he tells Amy where they’re going she’ll back out, he’s sure of it, so coffee is his compromise.

It’s a six hour drive, in total, and Amy tells him few more details.  Buddy’s planning to run for Governor, apparently, and wants her to run his campaign as well as marry him (though it’s not clear from what she says which will come first), ultimately with a view to running for the Senate.

All credit to him, the fucker knew just how to make her bite.  Three months of unemployment is more than enough to make Amy twitchy, and… and with everything else that’s going on… dangling that kind of bait… well, he can see why it worked.

(It’s partly his fault, Dan knows.  If she hadn’t been in such a state that she was actually bursting into tears in perfectly innocent cars, Buddy would never have gotten so far with her).

It’s only when they pull up outside the Graceland Wedding Chapel that Amy realises what’s up.

“You’re _joking_.”

“Yeah, Ames, that’s why I flew across country and drove for seven hours on no sleep, it’s all a joke.”

She laughs suddenly.  “We could have just gone to Reno, you know, if you’re so determined to make some kind of weird point.”

“We…okay, yes, that’s true, I didn’t think of that.  And I’m not making a point – I’m giving you a choice.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No,” Dan says, and he takes her hands in his.  “It’s actually quite simple.  Don’t marry Buddy.  Marry me.”

“You’ve lost your mind, haven’t you – something’s broken loose in there and it’s rattling around your empty skull like some kid’s toy.  I need to take you to the hospital.”

“Sure,” he says, “After.”

“You really expect me to believe you’re going to go through with this charade?”

“Try and see,” he says and steps out of the car.  He knows she won’t be able to resist following him, and he’s right, she trots after him in those little heels of hers, trying to start an argument.

“This is insane, you know that.  You have never, in a million years, wanted any kind of real relationship with anyone.”

“True.”

“So, your idea is that you’ll just jump into being someone’s husband with no – how is that supposed to work?”

“Well, we’ve basically been a couple for a while now, Amy, so I really don’t think it’ll be that hard.”

“You’re just doing this to get me away from Buddy, you –”

“Well _obviously_.  I never thought you’d get it into your head to run cross country, but since you have, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Right, so how do I know you won’t just… drop me on my ass as soon as –”

“Please, I wouldn’t need to marry you to do that.”

“Well then why?”

“Because you need it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“That means you’ve been freaking out ever since we left the White House, and you’re grabbing any bit of stability you can find, and… maybe this will make you calm the fuck down.”

“Easy for you to say, you have a… how would this even work?  Where would we live?”

“Don’t know,” he says, shrugging.  “We’ll work it out.”

“Just like that?”

“We work everything else out, why not this?”

“And you’ll, what, just give up being the whore of Babylon, for –”

“We all have to make sacrifices, and if it keeps you from –”

“This is insane.  You’re actually insane.”

He rolls his eyes, and holds the door of the wedding chapel open for her.  “And yet, you’re still here with me.”

“I’m waiting for the other shoe,” Amy says, and by the look in her eyes, he can tell she means it.

He’d booked them a slot, so the officiant and witnesses are ready for them – and really, they should at least be asking questions, based on Amy’s expression alone, but they don’t, just run through the business of marrying them quickly and efficiently. 

The entire time, Amy looks as though she’s struggling with a severe sense of disbelief, but she goes through with it – settling back on her heels with a smug expression after she’s signed the register, as though she’s sure he’s going to back out.

Twenty-five minutes after they parked the car, they walk out wearing matching wedding bands and married in the eyes of the law.  Amy is staring at her left hand in complete bafflement, and looks back at him to say, “Did that…just happen?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Dinner?”

He’d booked them a room at the Bellagio, partly because he knew Amy would like it, partly because he hadn’t had a huge amount of time to make the arrangements, but mostly, of course, because he likes being flashy.

Unfortunately, he’s so tired from the flight and the long drive, that he doesn’t have the energy to take advantage of the room or the bed – and Amy’s so damn twitchy, he’s not sure he’d want to anyway – so all they do is order room service, and get blitzed on a bottle of champagne.

He wakes up the next morning with Amy tucked into his side, all soft curves and blonde hair, and with a full night’s sleep under his belt, he is more than eager to consummate the marriage.

He’s tender with her, skimming his hands over her skin, kissing her for long, slow minutes, letting her set the pace, and putting his hands on her only when she makes it clear she wants him to.  (He has no doubt that there are many, many angry fuckfests in their future – how could there not – but just this once…)

Amy’s obvious surprise when he flips her on her back and goes down on her (because he came first) is weirdly flattering, and it’s not a shock when she confirms that Buddy never did that. 

(Which starts an argument that lasts all the way through breakfast, because _why_ did she get it into her head to marry someone who wasn’t even good in bed?)

They have to drive back to Carson City, so he can catch his flight back to New York (he has to go straight to the studio the next morning), and it’s kind of a crappy honeymoon, all told, but he doesn’t really care. 

It doesn’t feel half as long this time, and not just because Amy’s driving.  She bitches to him the whole time about…well basically everything, her family, her job prospects (apparently _Jonah_ had asked her to be his chief of staff, which… was obviously impossible, but was still the only decent offer she’d had), the assholes on the freeway, Selina disappearing into the ether…

He didn’t know until this very moment just how much he’d missed her.

They get to the airport with a half hour to spare, and so Amy walks him up to the departure gates.  “I’ll drop the car back,” she says, “I just… I should go talk to Buddy first.”

“Okay,” Dan says, “Can you make him cry?”

“No.  I don’t think so.”

“If you do, will you video it for me?”

“For fuck’s sake… you won, okay.”

“Yeah, I did,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

“You’re such an ass,” Amy says, but she’s leaning in, all but asking to be kissed… so that’s what he does, and it’s like something out of Love Actually, the two of them making out in the airport.

Except for, when they break apart, Amy saying, “If you ever, _ever_ cheat on me, I’m gone, you understand.  You will never see me again.”

“Point taken,” Dan says, and kisses the tip of her nose.  “I’ll see you in DC on the weekend, we can talk details then.”

“And tell my family,” Amy says, with a look of dread on her face. 

“If they know anything about you, they’ll know a big wedding is your nightmare.  Besides, you can blame me.”

She leans on him, for just a second, resting all her weight against his chest, “It’s going to be torture.”

“Maybe not,” he says, and kisses her one last time before going through security. 

And if, the next morning, he casually announces on CBS that he got married over the weekend, he eloped with his old girlfriend, Amy, and he’s happier than he’s ever been, well, he’s saving her from having to make at least the first phone call.

Amy just sighs when she calls him after, in the way she’s prone to do, but their little love story is more fascinating than even he’d imagined – they end up doing an interview in the Washington Post, and a consultancy firm based in Wall Street offers Amy a contract only a few weeks later… meaning she can move in with him without feeling like a kept woman.

When rumours spread a year later of his having an affair with Jane McCabe, she dismisses them out of hand, saying, “I know you.  If you’d done it you’d tell me – you’d want to see me react – you wouldn’t… _hide_.”

And he realises that, for the first time in years, she trusts him.

They start trying for a baby shortly afterwards - because, as much, as he's never wanted kids...someone who's half-him, half-Amy...well, he wants to meet that person.


	5. Life, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy's Dad has a fatal heart attack. AU starting from... 5.10, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I am working on the assumption that the heart attack Amy mentions in season 6 happened sometime between seasons 5 and 6, hence why we didn't see it. (It could, of course, have happened in season 2, but it seems really unlikely to me that doctors would mistake a heart attack for a stroke, so I went with what seemed the more reasonable assumption).

He hears about Amy’s Dad one day when he goes for lunch with Ben.  He’s making plans to relocate, now that they’re using him more, and he’d spent his final days boxing up the few items he wants to bring to New York, packing his clothes and scheduling meetings with agents.  

He’s looking forward to getting the hell out of D.C. and setting to work on launching Dan Egan properly, but… but he’s always liked Ben, and there’s no harm in one final lunch.

As for Amy fucking Brookheimer, she hasn’t answered a single one of his messages since they left the White House, too busy pretending to enjoy sex with her little toy soldier from Nevada.  So, he hadn’t called her to set up a goodbye drink or something, if she couldn’t even be bothered to stay in contact.  Sooner or later, she’d crack - she’d get bored and beg him to take her out for tequila and conversation that didn’t turn her brain into cotton wool.

She’ll come running back, no doubt of it.

So it’s rather a shock when, as they’re waiting for the bill, Ben says, “I’ll see you at the funeral?”

“Eh… what funeral?”

Ben makes a face, as he throws a couple of bills on the table, “Amy’s Dad?  Jesus, I thought you of all people would know.”

“Why would I - we’re not that kind of close.”

“Evidently.”

“She’s ignored every message I sent her.”

“Well,” Ben says, “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re too much of a shithead to be a shoulder to cry on.”

“What happened?”

“Had a massive heart attack - not that long after the inauguration, I heard.  And then a second one, about two weeks ago, and… that was it.  In and out of intensive care ever since.  They had a rough time of it, I think.  Anyway, the funeral’s tomorrow.  Want me to send you the details?”

“Sure,” Dan says, “I might swing by if I’ve finished packing.”

He doesn’t actually _want_ to go.  Being stuck in a room full of grieving Brookheimers, without even a chance of funeral sex… (admittedly, Sophie would probably be open to it, but it’s not like the sex was so good that it’s worth pissing Amy off all over again.  Even he has limits).

He’ll send Amy a text message or something, or have a bouquet of flowers sent to the ceremony, or make some vague kind of gesture in a couple of weeks that they can both ignore, and that will settle things.

And yet…

Maybe it’s morbid curiosity, maybe it’s a sign that something’s wrong with him, but… he wants to see her.  

And not just so he can make a joke about… about what?  Her Dad not being around to hate him from now on?  Her not being a Daddy’s girl any more?  

He doesn’t know what he expected.  But when he sees her at the funeral - from a distance, admittedly - she looks exactly the same.  Or, almost.  

She’s…still.  Still in a way he’s never seen before.  He knows her, knows her moods, knows she tends to make herself rigid when she’s upset, when she’s under pressure, but this… this is something more.

Her Mom and Sophie are wailing away, cuddling the younger members of the Brookheimer clan and making it obvious just how upset they are, in case anyone was in any doubt.  But Amy barely moves all the way through the service, hardly seeming to take in the preacher’s words, let alone anything else.

He hasn’t been to many funerals in his life, and most of them were Irish Catholic.  The rituals are unfamiliar to him, strange as it sounds.  He can’t imagine the Brookheimers having a proper wake, for one, though it’s fun to imagine Amy trying to navigate one.

He sees Sue, Ben and Mike and Wendy in the crowd, as well as handful of staffers he knows from the Hill, including Furlong’s Will (Dan doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that Furlong didn’t show up.  Amy’s Mom would be _scandalised_ no doubt, but…)

The pallbearers stand to escort the coffin out of the church, and that’s when he sees an irritatingly familiar face - Buddy the antelope Calhoun, springing into action to carry Amy’s Dad to the hearse.  Even the way he _moves_ irritates Dan, like his joints are made out of rubber.  How he holds his head up straight, Dan doesn’t know.

It’s bullshit.  He’s not part of the fucking family, he’s barely known Amy for one _minute_ , no way, no way he knows _anything_ about her, let alone deserves to be…

Amy walks behind the coffin, beside her mother, and she doesn’t even seem to _see_ him.  Her eyes are fixed on some point in front of her, and even though her mother’s arm is around her… she looks alone.

He hates her like this - swathed in black, face still and her steps quiet.   Before he would have said that Amy’s constant tension, the way she was always wound up and stressed about something, was something he disliked, something that she should change, but… but not like this.  She’s hidden away inside herself.

As always at these things, there’s considerable milling about and confusion outside the church, and the pallbearers have to try twice to get the coffin into the hearse, and Dan hovers, thinking he’ll say hello and leave.  

But there are a lot of people, and he ends up in a circle with various D.C. types, sharing political gossip and waiting for Amy to come over.  Even fucking _Jonah_ is there, talking at a volume that would be inappropriate in a nightclub, let alone a funeral.  (From some comments he drops, Dan gets the impression he’s taking inspiration from _Wedding Crashers_ , which is depressingly predictable).

After a few minutes of awkward not-at-all-pleasantries, Amy joins them.  She tolerates hugs from Mike and Will, though she doesn’t exactly reciprocate.  Up close, she looks like a doll, even more so than usual, her gaze vacant, as though she can’t quite bear to make eye contact with anyone.  She’s lost weight too, he can tell, and her face is pale, with sorrow or with sickness, he doesn’t know which.  

This isn’t what she needs.

Buddy is hovering at her elbow all the time, and Amy must be out of it or something, because she doesn’t object, barely even seems to notice him breathing down her neck.  He keeps trying to hold her hand, and Amy… lets him, but Dan can see how limp she is, how uninterested.

It’s only when her Mom comes over - to invite them all to attend the post-cremation lunch, and thank them all for coming to the funeral to support Amy, it means so much to them to have true friends at such a hard time - that she shows a tiny spark of life.

Under normal circumstances, Amy’s eyes would be rolling out of her head by now, but all she says is, “They don’t have to come, Mom, it’s all right, I don’t need -”

“Oh don’t be silly sweetheart,” her mother says, “Dan hasn’t even had a chance to speak to Sophie yet, and I’ve heard so much from you about Jonah… everyone’s welcome.”

Her Mom doesn’t notice but there’s a moment when Amy’s expression is one of pure anguish, like she’s been hit with a lash out of no where, but she doesn’t say anything, just nods and let her still mask fall again.

The family leave to attend the cremation, and Dan goes to the hotel with the others, installing himself at the bar and letting Ben buy a round of drinks.  (He could leave, could go back to packing up his apartment, but he wants to see her again).

When she finally shows up, she has to make a circuit of the Brookheimer clan, which apparently consists of several dozen aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and other presumably related elderly people.

It looks exhausting, and Dan’s not surprised that, when she finally makes her way over to them, she seems about ready to curl up in a ball.  Buddy, of fucking course, is with her, and seems to disapprove when, in response to his asking if he can get her a drink, she says, “Anything, strong - make it a double.”

But off he goes, and he can actually see Amy relax slightly when he’s not acting like her own personal Gary.  Jonah’s talking, and Dan lets him… as long Jonah’s talking, he can look at her, and… he wants to look at her, even when she’s so clearly drained and tired.

Jonah starts boasting, almost immediately, that Kent is working for him now, that he’s got a super-awesome office, that Amy doesn’t even _know._  He’s about a minute away from asking her for a drink or something, when Sophie joins them.  Which, maybe Dan should have expected this, but even he’s startled by just how rapidly things go downhill.

Jonah introduces himself, thinking he’s making an impression.  “I’m Congressman Jonah Ryan - Amy and I used to date.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” Sophie says, and she actually sounds like it’s working.  “And what do Congressmen get up to all day long?”

“Well,” Jonah says, puffing his chest out, and Dan rolls his eyes, “Obviously, I always make time to talk to constituents - at least the hot ones.”

“Do you think you could make some time for me?”

“Seriously,” Amy says, and she sounds furious, “At Dad’s _funeral_?  What is wrong with you?”

“Oh Ay-mee,” Sophie says in a sing-song voice, “Don’t be jealous.  If you still want him, just woman up and say so.  It’s not my fault you’re always too chicken to say what you want.”

Amy reels back, as though Sophie had spat at her, and her sister continues, “So would you be up for a little private conversation?”

Even Jonah looks uncomfortable, (well uncomfortable and turned-on, which is only to be expected), and naturally that is exactly when Buddy arrives with Amy’s drink.  

She necks it, slams the glass down on the bar, and turns back to Sophie saying, “For clarity, I never dated Jonah.  Never have, never will, never would.  But if you’re that desperate to hook up with one of my… have at it, enjoy yourself.  Buddy’s far too polite to ever turn you down, and as for…”  

She has to pause for a second and…and Dan had made a joke out of it, before, had chuckled to himself at the thought of Amy _wanting_ him, of her pining away while he messed her sister around, but the look of raw _hurt_ on her face right now, it… it’s not funny at all.

“I’m leaving,” she says, shaking off Buddy’s arm.  “Don’t follow me.”

She stomps out of the bar without sparing him a glance.  Sophie tosses her head, pretending to ignore her, but her interest in Jonah drops markedly as soon as Amy’s gone, and she starts bitching to Buddy about something to do with the funeral planning that Dan can’t be bothered to give a fuck about.  

Their Mom joins them a minute later, asking if anyone has seen Amy, she’s worried about her - Amy’s always been so _sensitive_ , and she doesn’t like to talk about things, and it’s all been so hard on her, and on and on and on.  

He doesn’t want to know that Amy was the only one with her Dad when he died, he doesn’t want to know that she hasn’t been sleeping, he doesn’t need to know any of this shit.  And yet…

He stays long enough to have a semi-useful conversation with Will and then gets the fuck out of there.  And in all honesty, if Sophie hadn’t called him, later that day, that probably would have been it.

But she does call him, because apparently Amy’s up and disappeared, and she’s not answering her phone, and maybe he might know where she is, since they’re “best friends” or whatever.

It’s not quite how he would ever have put it, but he guesses… he guesses it’s accurate enough.  But he doesn’t know and tells Sophie so, having to listen to her complain about Amy being a “fucking drama-queen” as a direct result.  He’s tempted to tell her that the reason Amy doesn’t like spending time with her family might have something to do with her big sister being fucking toxic (like, Dan’s brother hates him, but at least he can admit that he deserves it).

Still, he has a hunch, and so, after he’s had dinner with one of his prospective agents, he swings by Constitution Gardens, just in case.  It’s a miserable evening - a slow, damp drizzle coating everything in a kind of mist - and far too cold for anyone to be sitting outside… but there’s a spot there Amy likes, he knows… they used to get lunch there on the rare ( _rare_ ) summer days when they had time to get out of the office.  It wouldn’t have crossed his mind, except he’d seen her there alone a couple of times, sitting with a briefing book or her phone, (he’d always interrupted her, naturally, but he’d still got the sense it was somewhere she went to think, at least from time to time).

She’s sitting on a bench by the pool, wrapped in her black coat and staring at the water.  She doesn’t acknowledge him when he walks up but whatever, he’s not one to let the silent treatment get to him.

She must be soaked to the skin.

He sits beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him and watching her huddle deeper into her coat.  

“So,” he says, “Whatcha doing?”

“Go away, Dan.”

“You know I’m not going to do that.”

“Why, is your spider-sense for vulnerable women going off?  Leave me the fuck alone.”

“So you can stay here and die of hypothermia?  Not a chance.”

“Like you give a shit.”  She still hasn’t looked at him.

“Well, I’ve already had your sister blast up my phone -”

“ _Fuck_ Sophie - and fuck you, leave me alone.”

He almost doesn’t hear the catch in her voice, but only almost, and so he stands in front of her, holding out his hand.  “Come on,” he says, “At least let me get you a coffee or something.”

She stands up, ignoring his outstretched hand, and gives him a look.  “Well?”

“This way,” he says, and escorts her to a nearby diner.  Admittedly, he spends most of his time sending increasingly rude text messages to Gary, and Amy seems dead set on maintaining a minimum safe distance between them, but still… she comes.

He’d picked this diner specifically - they have a downright criminal selection of pies, and he knows Amy has a sweet tooth, even if she refuses to ever indulge it.  

Once they’re inside, he can see her properly, and she really is _drenched_ , her hair clinging to her scalp in a way that reminds him of a wet cat.  Even when she takes off her coat, he can tell she’s cold from the way she sits.  

“Why didn’t you go home?”

“I wanted to be alone.  As in by myself.”

“Yeah, maybe going to a massive tourist attraction wasn’t the best way of achieving that, babe.”

“Most people had the decency to leave me alone.”

“Well, I am a very special snowflake.  What do you want?”

“I’m not hungry.”

He rolls his eyes.  “No wonder you feel like shit.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“And yet, I’m the only one who knew where you were.”

She doesn’t respond to that, and Dan would push the point, but he gets a response from Gary (fucking finally), and by the time he’s read it, the waitress has come to take their orders.  A process he rather prolongs by asking her what kind of pies they’re serving that day, prompting her to list off every single one.

By the time she’s finished, Amy looks rather glazed, and when the waitress turns to her, she stammers for a moment before saying, “The peach pie, please.  And a coffee.”  Even if she’s only eating in an attempt to avoid social awkwardness, he’ll take it.

He leans forward as soon as the waitress is gone, saying, “So why was Buddy Calhoun at the funeral?”  (As if he doesn’t know).

“He’s my boyfriend, Dan, it would be stranger if he wasn’t there, wouldn’t it?”

“And you let your boyfriend of three months or whatever carry your father’s coffin?”

“Four months, nearly five,” Amy says, looking mulish.  “We got together before…and he’s not just my boyfriend.”

“That whole extra month doesn’t mean you know him.”

“He wants to marry me, you unspeakable prick.”

“What?”

“He asked my Dad for permission, a couple of weeks before…”  Amy’s face twists up suddenly, and she turns to look out the window.

“Well good.  Now I know it’s not going to last."

“Excuse me?”

“Amy, come the fuck on, there’s no way in hell you’re going to end up with some… gonk who asks your Daddy for permission.  Does he know you at all?  I’m surprised your Dad didn’t say no for that exact reason.”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything, he was _happy_ about it, okay, he’s the one who told me, Buddy didn’t even mean for me to know yet.”

“Sure, he didn’t,” Dan says.  “And you think _I’m_ the one who goes after vulnerable women?”

“I _know_ you do,” she says, “So why don’t you just tell me what you want and save both of us a lot of trouble.”

He rolls his eyes.  “I want you to take a phone call for me, in a couple of hours.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it - you can go back to pretending to be homeless or whatever once that’s done and I’ll even let you.”

“Fine,” she snaps, “And in the meantime, you can shut the fuck up.”

He doesn’t, of course, but he stays off the subject of her stick-figure boyfriend.  It’s the first time he’s ever been grateful for Jonah, because making fun of his manifold fuck-ups at least gives them something to talk about.  If ever someone deserved the pain of chemotherapy…

For all that Amy “wasn’t hungry,” he sees some colour come back into her face as she eats and she stops visibly shivering, so overall, he’d say his prescription worked.  

The diner’s starting to close up, and he still hasn’t had the call, so he tells her she’s coming back to his place.  Under normal circumstances, he’d expect Amy to fight him on it, but she clearly doesn’t want to go home, whether home is her parents’ house or her own, so she acquiesces without much of an argument.

She doesn’t speak much on the way back - she’s not up for small talk usually, but doing it in front of an uber-driver would be especially painful, so Dan gets it.  

Still, he’s almost relieved when she walks into his apartment, looks around for a moment and laughs, even if it is at his expense.  “How has this place become even _more_ of a man-cave?”

“I’m packing up,” he says.  “You want a beer?”

“Packing up for _what_?”

He removes the last two beers from his fridge, and comes back into the room, saying, “CBS, baby.  They want me in New York.”

It takes Amy a second to react – or to know _how_ to react, maybe – but eventually she takes the bottle from his hand, and sinks down on his couch.  He’d hoped that she’d sound at least disappointed, but her tone is indifferent when she says, “When are you leaving?”

“I’m driving up on Friday,” he says, “Just packing up the last few bits.”

“I assumed you liked to travel light,” Amy says, taking a sip of her beer.  “Like a hobo or something.”

“All those suits take up room.”

“Not to mention the skincare products.”

She’s still visibly cold, and he’s tempted to offer her a sweater or something, but he’s well aware that she’s only with him under sufferance – if he pisses her off, she’ll just leave.  So, he decides to tell her more about CBS, how they’ve used him, what they’re planning to do with him in the future and so on and so forth.  

It doesn’t really have the effect he’d intended.  On the positive side, Amy kicks her shoes off, curling up with her feet under her, but she also retreats even further into herself, taking small sips of her beer and avoiding eye contact.  He’d expected at least to receive a telling-off for being an arrogant son-of-a-bitch (he feels like he can count on one hand the number of conversations they’ve had that didn’t include a scolding of some kind, and as much as she’s pissed him off over the years, he’s kind of missed it), but she just lets him talk, utters non-committal nothings when he seems to be asking a question, and gets smaller and smaller the whole time.

He doesn’t know why, but her saying “that sounds great for you,” isn’t one-tenth as satisfying as her telling him what a repulsive deep-sea predator he is, and not only because she’s so quiet when she says it.  In the end he’s relieved when his phone finally rings, and he can stop talking.

For once in his life, Gary has come through, and got Selina on the phone.

For a moment, it seems like Amy doesn’t even want to take the call, but she takes the phone from his hand and says hello to Selina in an almost composed tone of voice.  

At least, it starts off composed, but as the conversation continues, and Amy starts telling the story of being with her father when he died, of not being able to tell if he knew she was there or not, of having to tell her Mom what had happened when she came back into the room…

She gets more and more upset, and she’s clearly struggling to keep her voice even as she tells Selina that she’ll get in touch with Catherine, of course, she’ll come up with a plan just as Selina expects.

By the time she hangs up, she’s huddled over, turned away from him, and she all but throws the phone at him as soon as she’s finished.

“You… _asshole_ ,” she says, and she’s definitely crying.  “ _This_ is what you wanted me for?  Did you need to see me cry that badly you fucking _sadist_?  Have you any idea how hard it’s been to… all day, I’ve been trying not to… and you just -”

She stands up, all in a hurry, and she’s still crying, uncontrollably, he thinks, but she grabs her purse all the same and starts digging through it.  

He doesn’t know what to say to her, so goes with what he thinks is a neutral option, “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my phone, I need to, I need… I can't go home, I can’t go back to them, it’s all wrong, he doesn’t get it, he doesn't understand, I need to book a hotel room or something, I need to -”

It takes her longer to get the sentence out than it should, her voice shaking with sobs she’s not quite holding back.  When he takes her phone from her she doesn’t even resist – just slumps, burying her face in her hands.  “Why did you have to do this?”

He pulls her into him then, because that’s what you do when someone’s crying (right?), and Amy comes, though reluctantly.  She doesn’t cry nice, either, it’s all wet and snotty, and if it were anyone else, Dan would be out the door… wouldn’t even have been in the room.  (He’s pretty sure his shirt is ruined).

When she’s finally calmed down, at least a little, he pats her head and says, “Don’t be fucking stupid, you’re staying here.”

For a moment, he thinks Amy’s going to run, but then she shrugs, and seems to accept the inevitable, only saying, “I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

“My my, however will we deal with that?”

“I’m too fucking… tired for your shit, can you just -”

She’s clearly drained now that she’s finally let go, and so he pulls her, so easily, into his room.  “Here,” he says, handing her a shirt, “Go shower and warm up, it’s like holding a corpse.”

“You would know,” she says, wearily, “You probably have half a dozen stashed under your bed by now.”

“Just go.”

There are still tears falling down her face, almost like she doesn’t notice them, but she goes.  Which gives him time to change, and also hang her coat up so it will dry.  

When Amy comes out, he’s lying on the bed, reading random headlines on his iPad.  There’s a moment when she seems adorably nervous approaching the bed, but she gets over it, climbing in beside him and pulling the covers over herself with incredible speed.

He’d been going to suggest that they watch something, or show her an article, or… he doesn’t know what, but Amy curls up on her side and seems ready to fall asleep almost immediately.  

Women have slept over before, of course, but usually only because he’s fucked them and wants to pretend (for whatever reason) that he’s not a complete scumbag.  Having Amy curled up in his bed, blonde hair spilling over her face, one hand under her cheek, is an entirely different thing.

His couch is too small even for Amy, or he’d be tempted to go and sleep there – something about having her so close, listening to her breathe, it makes him jittery – but as is, he lies awake for longer than he should, pretending to focus on his twitter and uncomfortably aware the whole time of her warmth beside him.

Which might be why, sometime after midnight, when Amy rolls over and damn near _snuggles_ , he decides to hell with it, and lets her.

 

* * *

 

Her head aches.

That’s the first thing she thinks when she wakes up the day after her father’s funeral.  Her head aches as though she spent a week barely eating or sleeping, and then cried solidly for about three hours.  Which is basically what happened, so she really shouldn’t be surprised.

She wakes up early – earlier than she needs, probably – blinking and slowly drifting into consciousness as the light fills the room.  She’s not even using a pillow, her head resting half in Dan’s armpit, half on his chest, and she’s somehow managed to sling her leg over his hip in her sleep.

She doesn’t want to get up.

There are, oh, _hundreds_ of things she has to do – she’d agreed to go with her Mom to meet the lawyers regarding the will, and all her parents’ bills are in her father’s name, and that’s going to take forever to fix, and then there are his things… they’ll have to be sorted through and sent to goodwill or something, and she needs to fix things up with Sophie, and Buddy’s probably having some kind of heart attack by now, he’ll be so worried, and she promised Selina she’d go meet Catherine and help get the Meyer Foundation set up, and…

She wishes she could just stay there, warm in Dan’s bed, not having to deal with any of the angry messages on her phone, not having to pretend to be okay, or to be ‘nice,’ able to just swear and scream and do whatever the fuck she felt like.

Given the choice, she thinks she’d stay forever – kick Dan out even, and keep his bed – just eat and sleep and yell at CNN for a while.  They’ve been in and out of hospitals for weeks, and she’s been handholding Buddy (she’s not sure whether she’s been protecting him from her family, or he’s been protecting everyone else from her, but she’s honestly sick of it) the whole time, and… she is exhausted.  

Just once, for just one day, she’d like not to have anyone _needing_ anything from her.

But it’s not to be.  She has responsibilities, even if she hates, oh, _all_ of them, and she needs to get on with things.  Lying about in a depressed puddle won’t help anyone.

When she first moves – not even a lot – Dan must feel it, because he pulls her closer with one arm, opening his eyes sleepily and saying, “Morning beautiful.”

Usually, usually, she’d roll her eyes at his bullshit, make fun of him for being so transparently full of it, but she can’t today, she just can’t, and so she lets him continue.  He cups her face with one hand as he says, “Sleep well?”

She shrugs – she doesn’t quite want to speak yet, as though it will break some spell.  His hand is warm, his thumb stroking back and forth across her cheekbone, and she lets him pull her closer, though she knows she shouldn’t.  

“I thought I’d have to dig you out sometime after noon,” he says, and off her look, adds, “You look like you’ve barely slept in a month.”

“Lots to think about.”

She’s half on top of him now, her hair falling almost into his face, and he is so much easier to tolerate like this, soft and close.  

Though he’s still an ass, of course.  “Planning how to let Buddy the Kid down gently?”

“Not exactly,” she says, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Dan says, and _there’s_ the smirk she’d been expecting.

But it doesn’t make her angry the way it has before, it just _is_ , it’s him, he has at least some faith in her, he doesn’t think she’s getting every fucking thing wrong (unlike some people), and maybe… maybe that’s why she kisses him.

It’s stupid – it’s _so_ stupid – it’s the kind of stupid that wins people Darwin Awards – and yet… if she can have her mind, her heart full of _him_ , for just a few minutes, maybe she can stop _thinking_ about…everything else, maybe the dull, constant ache in her chest will go away, and she can breathe again without hurting.

Her Dad would be so angry if he knew where she was.

Dan doesn’t react how she expected, because at first he’s…tentative, shy even, as though he doesn’t know how to comport himself, and she’s almost started to worry that she’s made a horrible mistake, when his arms tighten around her, and a moment later she’s underneath him.

He’s fierce, his hands rough on her and his mouth rougher, and this… _this_ is exactly what she wants, what she needs.  When he grinds into her, when he pushes her into the bed, she’s thinking about him, not her Dad, not sitting in that white room watching her Dad die, and not knowing quite _when_ he’d died, because it seemed to happen suddenly, despite it taking days and weeks, he’d slipped over without her even noticing, she’d been with him, but not really, not properly, she’d left him _alone_ in that final moment, and…

She tilts her hips and tries to press Dan closer into her, because… _please_ …

And that’s when Dan pulls back, his breathing heavy.

“We’re not doing this,” he says, and Amy thinks she might just slap him in the face.

How could she be so fucking _stupid_ as to think… again… she’d let herself think…

She must be the _only_ woman in the world Dan’s ever turned down for sex.

He must see something of what she’s feeling in her face, because he says her name, all soft, gentle almost, the way he _never_ is, and that… that’s worse.  Fucking _pity_.

She pushes him off her, which is hard, because he doesn't want to let her go, and fumbles her way out of the room, pulling her dress on over his shirt as she goes, not even caring that it’ll look like shit, it doesn’t matter, she has to get the fuck out of his apartment right away, she can’t spare a second to fix her skirt, it’s not important, she has to leave…

He catches up to her at the door, which maybe she should have expected.  He grabs on to her elbow, and says, “Stop,” turning her around as he does so.

“Don’t.  I’m leaving.”

“Ames, come the fuck on, don’t be… I’m trying to do the decent thing here.”

“You wouldn’t know the ‘decent’ thing if -”

“If it were any other woman, I’d have gone for it, all right?”

“Any other woman.”  Her voice is flat as she repeats his words.  “And just when I think it can’t get any worse.  Wow.”

“That’s not what I - that’s not how I meant it, and you know it.”  She shrugs, and folds her arms over her chest as he continues.  “Amy, we could fuck all morning, all day maybe, I’d certainly enjoy it, but you’d wake up in a week or two, when things are more normal, and you’d fucking _hate_ me for it.  You know you would.”

“Like you give a shit,” she says, and her voice is trembling.  “And I hate you now, so -”

“Liar.”

She is very, very tempted to hit him, the smug son-of-a-bitch, and maybe he knows, because he steps closer to her, pressing her back against the door.   “This is not how this happens.  Not like this.”

“Jesus fuck,” she says, and she might be crying, “The _one_ thing I thought I could rely on you for and you won’t even -”

“And what’s that?”

“To fuck me and not care.”

“No one’s more surprised than I am.”

She laughs, because she can’t help it, though it’s a watery laugh at best.  “I was in the room with him when he died, but I didn’t… I didn’t realise, I was checking my phone or some shit, and then he was just _dead_ and I didn’t notice, and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about it, all night, all day, how could I have _missed_ it, what the fuck is wrong with me?  And I just wanted...I just wanted to stop _thinking_ for one minute, to just be -”

“Buddy not doing it for you?”

“Shut up, shut up, just...just let me go, all right, just -”

“Amy,” he says, and he’s so close she has to tilt her head back to look at him.  “Trust me.”

“Not a chance.”

And then he’s kissing her, trailing his lips over her jaw, and down her neck, pulling her skirt up with hands that are...more impatient than she might have expected.  

When he kneels, she can’t conceal a… not a gasp, but a sound, her surprise making itself evident.  And for half a second, it’s like things are normal, because Dan looks up at her, and with an absolutely obnoxious tone in his voice, says, “We’ve never done _this_ before.”

And it’s exactly what she wants, exactly what she _needs_ , the chance to lose herself in sensation and forget every fucking thing that’s not him.  Everything falls away, until the _only_ feeling she has is where Dan’s touching her, his mouth, his hands, his face against her skin, and it’s wonderful.

It doesn’t take long, and when she comes there’s one, blissful, minute when her mind is...blank.  Empty.  Like nothing has happened.

But when he stands up, and she sees his face, flushed and almost proud, it all comes flooding back, and she realises what an enormous fucking mistake she just made.  

So, she runs.  (It's not what she wants.  She  _wants_ to bury her face in his neck, and cling on until she can take a proper breath, but... but she can't take that risk).

To her complete lack of surprise, Dan doesn’t follow her.  

She goes home, and she apologises to her Mom, and apologises to Buddy, and avoids talking to Sophie for as long as humanly possible.  Somehow, she gets through the next few weeks, dealing with the legal niceties and practical problems (convincing the cable provider to put the account in her mother’s name was a worse battle than any she ever had in Congress).  

She convinces Buddy to go back to Nevada, which turns out to be a blessing.  She’d thought… she’d thought she really liked him, but having him around all the time when she’s so...raw, it just doesn’t _work._  So, she tells him she needs some time to think, and sends him back to Carson City with a smile on her face.

Still, the first night she gets to spend _alone_ after her father dies is damn near harrowing.  She thought she was all right, she really did, but it all bubbles up again, and she has to curl up on her sofa and sob the moment she gets back to her apartment.  (Round about eleven, she's finally cried herself out, and she turns on the TV.  She doesn't know if seeing Dan on it makes her feel better or worse, but she has to spend whole minutes talking herself out of the impulse to call him.  He'd be a shit, he'd be awful, but maybe...maybe she'd feel better if she heard his voice).

She doesn’t know what to do.

Which is why she goes to New York, to stay with Catherine and Marjorie and get the ball rolling on the Meyer Foundation.  There are the legal aspects, which, naturally, are a complete nightmare, but there’s also the question of where the Foundation should focus… something no one, not even Selina, has a clue about, apparently.

So, she gets a reader’s ticket at Columbia and dives into research, trying to identify a policy area that will fit with Selina’s experience and also not bore her to fucking tears.  (It’s not easy).

The aim is to have four complete proposals, complete with proposed policy goals, partner-organisations and a five-year plan for project delivery, by September.  Knowing Selina, they’ll all get tossed in the recycling bin without being read, but Amy’s not worried about that.  The Meyer Foundation for Peace and Climate Security is what she has in mind, and she’s sure she’ll be able to persuade her old boss.  The intersection of climate change and political instability is shit hot in academia right now, and it will give Selina a wide brief (and therefore many, _many_ opportunities to comment on current affairs), without making it seem that she’s copycatting the work of other former presidents.

She even agrees to go out for a drink with an adjunct professor at NYU, who has both the contacts and the expertise to be extremely useful to them, if she can talk him round.

At least, that was the plan.  But after forty minutes of him staring at her dreamily and trying to impress her with stories of that time he almost went to Syria, she realises it’s pointless.

He’s cute, she’ll say that for him, and in another life she might have fallen for the wide-eyed idealist thing, but as is she’s just...bored.

So, when he gets a phone call asking him to go on CNN the next morning, and has to leave because he needs to prep for the interview, she’s not sorry, though she probably should be.  But she smiles, and nods, and wishes him good luck, and decides to stay and finish her margarita.  (Sure, she _could_ have left with him, and not so smoothly avoided an attempted kiss or whatever, but why bother?)

When Dan slides into the seat opposite her not even a minute after her ‘date’ has left, she’s genuinely surprised.  She knew he was in New York, of course, how could she not, but…

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Hello to you too, Ames.”

“No, we are not talking about anything else until you explain that colour.”

He rolls his eyes.  “The make-up girl’s addicted to bronzer.  How are you?  You look good.”

“Yeah?”

“What happened to your date?”

“He had to leave,” Amy says, not really caring.

“So, you’ve dumped Buddy, then?”

“Not exactly.  He’s in Nevada - we talk.”

“So you take _his_ calls?”

She shrugs, not wanting to get into this right now.  One misguided post-funeral… it hadn’t changed her mind about him.  “What do you want?”

“Do you want me to buy you another drink or two, or should I just tell you now?”

“I’d like to know when I’m sober, thank you.”

“Fine,” he says, leaning back in his chair with a smile on his face.  “I want you to come home with me tonight.”

The way he throws it out there, so confident, doesn’t surprise her exactly, but… but she also doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t know _how_ to answer.  So all she says is, “Buy me another drink.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a buy me another drink.”

Which is how she ends up in his lap, right before midnight, riding his dick and trying to match her rhythm to his.  They’d stumbled into the apartment together, and Dan had tried to push her towards the bedroom, tried to pull her dress off, and she… she wasn’t having that, she wasn’t giving him any more of her than she wanted to, and so she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down into the couch.  

He didn’t seem to mind, at least, not if the way he gripped her hips and moaned into her hair was any indication.

When he comes, sooner than she needed him to, it’s weirdly satisfying.  Now she can truly get it out of her system, forget about the whole thing, because _what_ a disappointment.

Only, when she moves to stand up, to grab her purse and leave, Dan stops her, his face baffled.  “You’re not done,” he says (and for fuck’s sake, why is this the only thing he _isn’t_ a selfish prick about?).  

His hands sneak between her legs, touching her in the right spots, finding the places that make her gasp, and at the same time, he starts kissing her neck, and not just kissing, no… right when she’s about to hit her peak, he bites, not hard, but hard enough, so that the pleasure and pain melt together almost, and… that’s enough.  (Later, when she’s recovered her senses, she’ll see the massive fucking hickey he gave her and want to kill him… but it’s not later yet).

Her plan, such as it was, had been to walk out the moment the sex was over, and she almost sticks to it.  But he catches her, by the door, and starts murmuring in her ear - she should stay, he has nothing planned, they can go again, and…

She winds up staying the whole weekend.  They order pizza, and have sex in pretty much every room, and she makes fun of his stupid make-up and criticises his story ideas (going undercover as a homeless person, seriously?) and they sleep in until noon every day and… she hasn’t laughed so much or had such a good time in… in she doesn’t like to remember how long.

It’s never like this with Buddy, there’s always something awkward, something not quite understood, between them, and maybe that’s the point of him, maybe that's what makes him safe, but…

She doesn’t make the same mistake again.

Well, she does, but she has the common sense to leave immediately afterwards (well, almost immediately), or kick him out, not to get drawn into some fucked up ‘girlfriend experience’ bullshit.   He’s always been proud of his reputation as an ambulant sex toy, so that’s exactly how she’s going to treat him, no matter how much he complains.

They sleep together once, twice, sometimes three times a week that whole summer, and it’s great.  Well, the sex is great.  Dan gets twitchy and annoyed whenever she goes on a date with anyone else, and he damn near hits the roof when she mentions that Buddy is coming out to see her, but she has neither interest nor time for his adolescent bullshit and tells him so.

(In fact she yells it at him, loudly, when he follows her down the street to continue the argument.  He’s not her boyfriend, he’s not her _anything_ , he doesn’t get to complain, he has no claim on her whatsoever).

She knows she has to make a decision.

Selina’s still dithering about the Foundation, what its focus should be, who should run it, whether she actually gives a fuck, and Amy knows Buddy wants to make plans for their future, and… and the day he arrives, her pregnancy test comes back positive.

(She hadn't gone on the pill, because she hadn't wanted Dan to  _know_ she'd gone on the pill, he'd undoubtedly be smug and insufferable about it - or worse, start a fight she wasn't anywhere near ready for - and... she'd known that was a stupid thing to do, but...)

She’s _weird_ for the whole duration of Buddy's visit as a direct result.  She hadn’t cheated on him, that was something, she’d told him she wasn’t up for any kind of relationship, she needed time to clear her head, but… but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

He has a whole pitch.  He’s been approached to run for Governor of Nevada, and he wants to do it, thinks he could make a difference (which is _adorable_ ), but nothing… nothing would make it better than to run the campaign with his brilliant, beautiful fiance by his side.  

She can picture the life Buddy has in mind, is the thing, can picture it so clearly, but… maybe it’s all those weeks having him cling on to her in the hospital, but he doesn’t _fit_.  

It’s the whole life she wants, but Buddy doesn’t work in it.  He’s just...wrong.  Or she's wrong, when she's with him.

So, she tells him she’s still reeling from her Dad’s death (which might even be true), tells him she needs some time to think, and sends him off with a kiss.

Not five minutes later, she’s staring at the ring box on her kitchen table like it's the fucking obelisk from 2001, and Dan pounds on her door.  

It’s like he knew.  (Which, given how much Buddy likes to tweet, may actually be true).

She lets him in, though she probably shouldn’t, and sits back down.  It would have been so much easier to deal with the two of them _separately._

He’s got that wound-up, frustrated look he gets when things aren’t going his way, and the first thing he says is, “You dumped him, right?”

She gestures towards the ring box.  “Not exactly.  He wants me to move to Nevada.”

“And you’re not fucking going.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Jesus, Amy, it’s really not that hard.  Is that the dick you want for the rest of your life, or not?”

“I… he wants me to run his campaign - for Governor.  He wants to...buy a house in DC, and maybe go for the Senate in a few years, the two of us, you know, working on it all together, and getting fucking married, and having kids, maybe, and...being _partners_ , and it’s _everything_ I want, it’s everything my Dad wanted for me.”

“Fuck your Dad.”  

“Don’t you _dare_.”

“No.  I will.  If your Dad wanted you with that...tree, than he’s a fucking moron.  You ran away from him, Amy, that day, and you know it.”

“I ran away from everyone,” she says, her mouth dry.

“And he didn’t know where to find you - just sat in your apartment waiting for you to come back like some limp-dick cactus.”

“It’s a _life_ , Dan, don’t you understand that?  I could have someone, all the time, who actually gives a shit about me, I could get my career back -”

“You don’t need your fucking boyfriend to get you a job, Amy.”

“Why, are you the only one allowed to do that?”

He shakes his head at her, and says, sounding more angry than she’d expected.  “Well if it’s all so fucking wonderful, why are you still here, why’d you let him walk away?”

Dan is still Dan, of course, so maybe she should have known he’d zero in on her weakspot in only a matter of minutes.  

But there’s no point in delaying things, so she slides the little white stick across the table to him, and tells him the truth.  “Because of this.”

He puts it together in only a second or two, and looks up with a smile she doesn’t like.  “It’s mine?”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s why you don’t know?”

She doesn’t know how much of the truth to give him.  “It’s not the only reason, but… yeah.”

He leans back in his seat for a few minutes, mulling things over maybe, and then says, “The way I see it, you have two options.  Run off to Nevada for six months, realise you’ve made a horrible mistake, and come back to me, or save me and everyone else a lot of ball-ache, and skip it.”

“Wow,” she says, “With an offer like that, how could I possibly refuse?”

“Well excuse me for not liking the idea of my wife being married to someone else.”  She rolls her eyes at him, and then he takes her hand, pressing it to his chest.   “Amy,” he says, “Let’s stop fucking around.  I’m sick of only getting one part of you.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” she says, and she will not cry, she _will_ _not_ cry.  

“Maybe once upon a time.  And if you were any other woman, it’d be different, but…”

“But?”

“Look,” he says, in a tone that seems to indicate actual pain, “I’m really sorry about your Dad.  Okay?  I am.  It's awful.  But it was fucking torture watching everyone around you fuck it up, because they don’t _know_ you.  I do.  And I can’t take the thought of… you’re not going to waste your time on someone who doesn’t understand thing one about you, who doesn’t _get_ it, when you could be with me.  You're not that stupid, Amy.”

She needs a moment to take all that in, and finally, she says the only thing she can.  “My Dad would be so pissed.”

“Yeah?”  Dan smirks, and kisses her.  “Good.”

They’ll fight it out in more detail later - fight it out for months to come probably - she doesn’t know what the future looks like, doesn’t know what the path is, doesn’t know yet how they’ll handle a baby or, oh, anything else...but she does know that Dan fits.  And even if everything else is fucked up… that’s enough.

(She will also tell him, at some length, that he can’t reuse Buddy’s engagement ring, what the fuck is wrong with him, jesus christ, they’re sending it back right now, and she never wants to hear any such bullshit ever again).  (It’s only when he grins that she realises he was messing with her).  

It’s more than enough.


	6. Repent at Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting from 6.02 - Buddy has the common sense to take a taxi home, rather than driving drunk.

Shortly after Thanksgiving 2018, Amy says goodbye to Buddy Calhoun in Washington Dulles airport. 

It’s… polite.Calm.Reasonable.He kisses her cheek and thanks her for everything, she smiles and pretends she doesn’t hate it. 

As break-ups go, it’s not the _worst_ she’s ever had. 

And yes, she’s stuck wearing the engagement ring for another month, since he wouldn’t take it back but… but it still feels like freedom when she walks out of the airport.

She’d picked his new Chief-of-Staff herself, and they’d agreed a text to go out to press on December 21.Long enough that it wouldn’t appear that Buddy had been lying about their relationship, and close enough to Christmas that the press won’t have time to go into their usual feeding frenzy.

It was a long time coming.

She’d realised - not just once, but over and over - that it was never going to work.She’d try to hope, to focus on the campaign and have faith that they’d find a way to connect, and then Buddy would say something or do something, and she would be crushed under the absolute certainty that she couldn’t marry him. 

But she’d soldiered on.If she could just… get Buddy elected, get _one_ successful election campaign under her belt, then maybe she’d have…options.And she needed options - she wasn’t about to crawl back to D.C. with her tail between her legs, pleading with Furlong, or even worse, Jonah, to hire her. 

Amy didn’t believe in god or anything like god, but if she did she’d have been on her knees praying every fucking night for victory.She needed to wipe the slate clean - remind people that there was more to Amy Brookheimer than Selina Meyer - and Buddy was the one tool she had available to her to do that.

Off and on, she felt guilty, for letting Buddy think their engagement was meaningful, carrying on with their _farce_ of a relationship when it was obvious they didn’t fit. 

But at the same time, at the same time, she couldn’t help but despise him, just a little.He was embarrassed by her, she could tell, ashamed of her whenever she open her mouth, and yet just the potential for sex (for fucking _terrible_ sex) was enough to keep him hanging on against all the evidence. 

He didn’t even _like_ her. 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise, but it hurt.Even though she was already planning her exit when she realised, it still hurt.She’d been talking to Selina on the phone (maybe the one time she felt like herself), trying to convince her that marrying a Muslim man would destroy any remaining political ambitions she had… and Buddy had given her this _look_.Like he was disappointed in her, like she was supposed to believe in love conquering all or some shit, because reality upset him.

He stopped trying to persuade her that they should elope after that.

She can’t start looking for a new job - not yet, it would give the game away - and so she takes an extended…vacation in D.C.She hasn’t had more than a week off at a time since before Selina’s primary campaign, and she fucking _hates_ it.She wants to be _doing_ things, prepping a legislative agenda, sparring with the press…anything that might make her feel fucking _alive._

Which isn’t to say she’s not glad to be back in D.C. because she is - Amy never understood nostalgia until she had to spend nearly two years living in Nevada - Carson City should have died when the railways did, and everyone would have been better off.Being back in a _proper_ city, with Japanese restaurants and muggings and spas that she will never ever waste her time visiting, gives her more pleasure than even she’d expected it.

She goes to New York one weekend, to visit Selina and scheme.Now that the truth about Tibet is out, both of their reputations have soared, and it’s nice to hear her old boss sounding happy for once.Admittedly, unless the poll numbers have taken a much sharper turn than anyone’s acknowledged, Amy’s pretty sure Selina’s schemes are little more than fantasies, but war-gaming is fun all the same.

Something inside her jolts, like a minor explosion has gone off, when Selina mentions that Ben, Kent and Dan are setting up a political consultancy shop in D.C. but, unsurprisingly, no one notices.Selina’s too busy showing her Catherine’s nightmare baby nursery, which…

If she didn’t know better, Amy would almost resent it.Catherine was married, apparently happily, Catherine had a baby, and she’d never worked for _anything_ , not once in her life.Whereas Amy, no matter how hard she tried, always seemed to wind up back in the same lonely, miserable place.

But she does know better, and so she only comments that the masks will give the kid nightmares, because it’s true.

The imposed downtime frustrates her, and so she gets into the habit of going to one of her favourite coffee-shops each day and reading.She can at least pretend that she’s doing something productive, and the stack of books that’s been beside her bed since… since Selina was in the Senate, at least, finally starts to shrink. 

She does her best not to get drawn into spending time with her family - things with her Dad had been rough ever since the heart attack, and she is not _interested_ in hearing what Sophie thinks about, oh, anything.

The power of not giving a fuck what her sister thinks or wants or demands is amazing - she wishes she’d discovered it earlier. 

Her Mom tries to convince her that she and Sophie should really spend some time together, that Sophie missed her so much, that it was very hard doing without her for so long, but… so what?Even if Sophie _did_ have those feelings, which was fucking doubtful, why should Amy care?She has no intention of being used as an unpaid babysitter just because it makes Sophie feel better about whatever the fuck happened to be bothering her this week.

Perhaps she should have expected that she would run into Dan. 

But she’d tried not to think about him, tried to put him entirely out of her head, and she was proud of her success.So it simply hadn’t… crossed her mind that maybe, maybe she should be on the lookout. 

She had finished Rebecca Solnit’s latest collection of essays sooner than she’d expected, and so she’d been staring out the window, musing or something.Solnit believed in kindness, evidently, but really…

Amy’s not sure such a thing exists.She believes in honesty.

She’s staring out the window without actually seeing anything, wondering if maybe _she_ should write a book, pretend to be some impossible creature of infinite empathy and no political instincts, when she’s startled by a knock on the window.

And there he is, as large as life and twice as obnoxious, looking in at her with a grin on his face that she doesn’t…doesn’t understand. 

(CBS This Morning had been Buddy’s favourite news show, but Amy had always made sure to be much too busy to watch, though much good it did her.Catching _glimpses_ of him was almost worse - and having a daily reminder of…everything wore on her nerves, even more so when things with Buddy were really bad).

But missing him, missing being able to say anything, _anything_ , and know he’d be interested, and know he’d _understand_ , and know he wouldn’t care that she was frustrated and wound up and furious… it was just further proof, she was fucked up beyond help, she was a lost cause.

It didn’t mean she wanted to _see_ him again.

Her life was better without Dan Egan in it. 

Or, maybe not better, but less of a fucking disaster zone.Buddy was a bad match, Buddy was a disappointment, but he had never made her feel…

When she realises he’s coming in to see her, she tries to muster up some kind of reaction that doesn’t look like she’s having an emotional meltdown.It’s been _so_ long.

“Ames,” he says, and she wishes he wasn’t there.

Still, he is there, and if there’s one thing she can be sure of, it’s that if Dan doesn’t want to be ignored she doesn’t stand a chance of paying attention to anyone else.  So she stands up to greet him, hoping that they can exchange a sentence or two and then he’ll leave her in peace.  Maybe he’ll see a potentially useful intern or an influential Senator or something and ditch her the way he always does.

She’s uncomfortably aware of how small she is beside him in her jeans and flats, her comfortable sweater and ‘on vacation’ hair.  

“Danny,” she says, and hopes that alone will be enough to get rid of him.

He just smiles, and says, “You changed your hair.”

It’s about a foot longer than it was the last time he saw her, so it stands to reason he’d notice it, especially as it’s tousled and wavy too – since she wasn’t working, she’d felt no need to straighten it, which may, she thinks, have been an error.  But all she says is, “And you’re going gray.  I thought CBS would have made you dye it.”

“So you _did_ watch.”

“Buddy likes it,” she says, not so much wanting to needle him as to distance herself.  “He has a crush on… the younger one, whatever her name is.”

Dan smirks.  “Guess we have the same taste then,” he says, looking immensely pleased with himself.  

“Guess so,” she says, and sits back down.  She really _doesn’t_ want to know about his exploits or affairs or anything – she can’t even muster up the energy to be jealous.

She’d kind of hoped he’d walk away, but Dan just takes the seat opposite her, grinning in a way that’s both infuriating and… and achingly, painfully familiar.  “So,” he says, leaning back in his seat and looking her up and down.  “Did you miss me?”

“No.”

It’s not true of course – there were so many times when…something stupid would happen, or something funny, and she’d want to text him or call him or something, and she’d had to remind herself, sharply and firmly, that he didn’t want her, that he never had, that she’d just be opening herself up for yet another humiliation, that he was probably off fucking half of New York city and happier than he’d ever been in his life.  In short, she’d missed him so much, she’d had to remind herself over and over again of all the many reasons why she shouldn’t… and the whole exercise had become so depressing that she’d tried not to think about him.  It made her sad.

Dan looks pissed, and for a moment she thinks he’s going to say something…but they’re interrupted. Ben and Kent join them, with a tray of coffees, and between greeting them (Ben hugs her, which is like being hugged by her Dad, and Kent… doesn’t, because expressing affection for a former colleague isn’t in his programming) and the hustle and bustle of getting them chairs and so on, it’s a few minutes before they’re all sat down around the table.

“So, Amy,” Ben says, “Congratulations.”  

For a moment, she’s not sure what he’s referring to, and is dreading having to behave like a blushing bride, but then he continues.  “You ran one hell of a campaign out there.  Hell of a campaign.  Getting him to do that flyover was genius.”

“He thought I was trying to kill him,” Amy says, “But it worked.”

“I never would have seen you with a hotshot air pilot –”

She laughs, because she can’t help it.  “Believe me,” she says, “Buddy isn’t… he’s only barely a pilot, he’s definitely not some… Iceman type.”

“So, are you back in DC for the wedding planning?”

There’s something in Ben’s voice as he asks the question that she doesn’t entirely understand – why would he care – but there’s no point in beating around the bush.  They’ll see through her in a second.

She twists that stupid engagement ring, and, not quite looking at them, says, “That’s…not on the cards any more.  We’re just… waiting for the right time to announce.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kent says, and he almost sounds like a human being.

“Well,” she says, and doesn’t know quite how to continue.  “Better to know now, right?  I’m just waiting until we’ve announced and I can take the ring off.”  It feels like a fucking fetter.

There’s a moment where she sees all three men exchange a _look_ , and then Ben says, “So, what are you doing with yourself in the meantime?”   


“I’m on vacation,” she says, trying to sound enthusiastic.“I can’t start looking for a new role until the story breaks, so…”

“So you get an enforced vacation and your first step is to come back to DC?”

There’s _something_ in Dan’s voice, but she’s not going to waste her time trying to work out what it is.“My family’s been giving me shit about not being around, so…”

“You know,” Kent says, “We’re going into business, the three of us.”

“Yeah,” she says, “Selina mentioned it.”

“You asked about me?”

She rolls her eyes, taking her time.“No.It came out during one of her stream of consciousness rants.It was just a _relief_ that she wasn’t talking about ‘Andy.’She even made me go to a spa.”

“Well,” Ben says, “We could really use you, Amy.”

“What?Are you offering me a job?Do you even have an office?”

Ben laughs, and says, “We just signed a lease actually.And believe me, it will beat working for Jonah.”

“If that’s your sales pitch it needs a little work.”

“You should come see it,” Ben says.“You’d have to share an office with Dan, but..”

“Okay,” she says, feeling doubtful.

But she lets them talk her round.Ben and Kent are known quantities, after all, and even if it’s a fuck-up, it might put her in the way of other opportunities.It’s certainly better than sending her resume to every hungry congressman out there and hoping that she’ll manage to attract one who _isn’t_ a pervert or psychopath.

Technically, she’s not formally working for ‘BKD’ (adding in an ‘A’ to the name would not improve it, so she hadn’t asked), but Dan concocts some bullshit about how she’s ‘advising’ them, and therefore has to sit in on all their client meetings.(All the clients will realise what’s going on when the press release about her and Buddy goes out, but at that point who cares?) 

It cuts short her vacation time, thank god, and having a job to go to every day gets her parents off her back - though her Dad is _not_ happy that she’s working with Dan again.She kind of agrees with him on that point, though she doesn’t bother saying so. 

In fact, she does her best to avoid Dan outside of work, claiming she has lunch dates or family commitments or whatever whenever he suggests doing something together.Some of the time it’s even true.She can tell she’s kind of pissing him off, but he’s almost certainly too busy fucking the newest generation of DC interns to pursue the matter.And every time he seems like he’s about to start something, she manages to use either Kent or Ben as a human shield and ward him off. 

Maybe they’d realised what she was doing, or maybe she just had terrible luck, but two weeks into December, Kent drops an irritating little bombshell. 

There’s a red heart fundraiser for heart disease or something on Friday 21 December, and all kinds of presidential hopefuls will be attending, so Kent’s bought them a table.She’s not sure which pisses her off more - that she’s going to have to go out and buy a red dress, that it’s the same day as the announcement about the end of her relationship with Buddy, or that she’s going to have to attend as Dan’s ‘date.’(She was the first person Kent told, and when she suggested that she go as _his_ date instead, he’d given her a strange look and pointed out that ‘Julie,’ whoever she is, wouldn’t like that).

Literally the _only_ good news is that Selina is attending too, with her new squeeze Jaffar, and she’s going to be at their table.And with luck, Dan’ll be so busy chasing after his latest victim, that he’ll leave her the fuck alone.  


Still, aware that people will viewing her as heartbroken and lovelorn and whatever, she takes care to buy a really _great_ dress.It’s flashier than she usually goes for, in a rich, warm red, with a deep v neckline and a mermaid skirt.She even books a room in the hotel, so she can sleep over and not have to navigate getting home at one a.m.She gets there early on the day so she can check in and take the time to do her hair and make-up.

She has no actual desire to go to this event.She hates schmoozing, and she hates having to smile at people, and she hates being…scrutinised and looked at.If it were up to her, she’d have a night in with ice-cream and wine and no fucking people.She’d even make an effort to read the Te-Nihisi Coates book she’d picked up roughly eleven years ago.

But she packs her clutch bag and girds her loins, taking a deep breath before she walks into the bar to meet everyone.Fortunately, Selina is already there, and she actually hugs Amy, saying she’s missed her and introducing her to Jaffar.(Who seems like a normal, sensible, stable man, and probably the reason for this unusually good mood - Amy gives him three months, at most). 

“This is my little Amy,” she says, smiling up at him.“I brought her into professional politics back when she was a baby, and then she abandoned to me to go get her boyfriend elected.”

“Well ma’am,” Amy says, and isn’t sure what to say exactly, “It all worked out in the end.”

“I bet you’re relieved to away from shitstain Nevada,” she says, “At least the human spatula you were engaged to was good at pleasing the sagebush if not your -”

She should never have told her Buddy was terrible in bed, and it doesn’t help that she can _feel_ Dan listening in on the conversation.

“It’s sage _brush,_ not… the other thing,” she says.

Ben arrives, with his wife, and any hope she’d had that the conversation would become less awkward is dashed when he says, “Amy, we hired you for your brain, not as the team honeypot.”

She can’t quite conceal a nervous…movement, tucking her hair behind her ears as she says, “There was dress code, Ben, I didn’t have a huge amount of choice.”

“Better watch out for Leon West,” Selina says, and proceeds to tell them all how she and Mike had read his diary, and how Amy was on every page, sometimes in explicit detail, and…

“That’s fucking creepy,” she says, sincerely grossed out.“I’ve barely seen him in two years and he’s still…writing up explicit fantasies about me, that’s just… weird.He’s not going to be at this, is he?”

“Why?” Dan says, and she _really_ doesn’t like his tone, “You planning a rebound?”

She doesn’t dignify that comment with a response, knocking back her drink and hoping the others will get the point. 

A few minutes later they go into the dinner, and from then on she’s too busy talking to people to worry about him.She meets the latest Congressman-elect for New Hampshire, who seems almost normal despite sharing genetic material with Jonah, and his chief-of-staff who…

Who is Captain Fucking America, as far as she can tell, for all his name is Tony.A former Navy Seal, who got his Masters in Political Science from Colombia… she’s really tempted to ask why _he_ isn’t the congressman (and would have, maybe, if Ezra had ever let him get a word in edgewise).He’s cute, and she finds herself…noticing that, for the first time in what feels like months. 

They’d approached her at the bar, and she spoke to them for a few minutes, congratulating them on the recent campaign (though with Jeff Kane in their corner, it’s not like a real campaign was necessary), until she’s interrupted by Dan.

He doesn’t even bother turning on the charm for Ezra, who gives him the same spiel he gave Amy - how he’s heard so much about him from Jonah, how Dan is _exactly_ what he had pictured, and so on and on.Amy barely has time to get their business cards before Dan escorts her back to their dinner table, saying Selina wants her.

Which isn’t even true, but whatever, she doesn’t really care, it was a boring conversation anyway, even if Tony was kind of cute. 

When he asks her to dance later that evening, she goes with him, and they have a very civilised, stately dance, while he tells her all about his problems adjusting to DC power plays.She agrees to get coffee with him some time, and tries not to make it obvious that she thinks he’s going to be chewed up and spat out inside of a week. 

Either he’ll realise that himself soon enough, or he won’t - in which case there’s no point in trying to rescue him.

It’s not quite the agonising event she’d been expecting, but she’s relieved when it’s over all the same.  Too relieved, perhaps, because when Selina suggests they take all the champagne and drink it in her suite, she agrees. 

That’s how she finds herself sat on a sofa between Dan and Selina, laughing at Ben’s jokes and sipping out of an overpriced wine flute.The champagne is bone dry and ice cold, and it must go straight to her head, because for the first time all night she feels like she can relax.

Dan has a whole set of stories about CBS and just how much he loathed Jane McCabe.When he tells them she started rumours about the two of them fucking in order to advance her career, Amy starts laughing so hard wine nearly comes out of her nose.He looks at her, clearly irritated, and she says, “I can’t think of a single person who deserves it more.”

“I’m glad my sexual harassment entertains you, Ames.”

“Extremely,” she says, kicking her shoes off and curling up with her feet under her.“You got off light.Anyway, why didn’t you just…get a girlfriend and shut the gossip columnists up that way?If Jonah managed it, you probably can.”

There’s a strange _heat_ in the look he gives her, but she ignores it, and Selina interrupts anyway, mourning the fact that Dan was fired before he could cover the revelation that she was responsible for Tibet.

Ben and Kent have gone home for the evening, and there’s one bottle of champagne left when Selina and Jaffar decide to go to bed.The suite is so huge though that Jaffar tells them to stay and finish the bottle if they want, and closes the door behind him. 

And then she’s alone with Dan, the very situation she’d been meaning to avoid.She’s considering whether she should leave or not, when he startles her by filling up her glass.And really, what is she worried about?He’d made it more than clear that he wasn’t interested, so why not stay and have another drink and enjoy getting to talk to someone who actually got her jokes?

They clink glasses, and she realises that he’s closer, somehow, than he was before - he’s got her backed up against the armrest of the sofa almost, and she can see the flecks of grey in his hair.He looks good in a tuxedo.

“Did you enjoy tonight?”

“I guess,” she says, shrugging. “I hate talking to people.”

“You managed pretty well with Jonah’s cousin.”

“He’s really almost normal,” she says, “It’s bizarre.But he’s going to get destroyed - his chief of staff is like a… baby, it’s going to be brutal.”

“All wide-eyed and idealistic?” Dan says, cocking an eyebrow.“Sounds like your type.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she says, snorting.“It sounds like _yours_.Too… to know better.He’s probably ripe for the plucking, so…”

“That is the best way to get over someone, you know.”He grins at her.“Getting under someone else.”

“How the fuck would you know?You have to give a shit about someone in the first place to need to to ‘get over’ them.”

He gives her a sidelong glance at that, and reaches out to tap her left hand.“You’re not wearing the ring.”

“No,” she says, trying not to notice that he’s still touching her hand, “I’m not.It’s on its way back to Nevada right now.I am never going back there.” 

“Why did you ever go in the first place?”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”  


“Why?”He starts to run his fingers up her arm, almost as though he’s stroking her.“Did he break your heart?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that question, even if only inside her own head.“It doesn’t matter,” she says, “It’s done now.”

Dan leans closer, his hand on her shoulder, and says, “Well I’m _glad_ he was a fuck-up.”

“Of course you are,” she says, “God forbid I be happy.”

“Because you came back,” he says, and he almost sounds like he means it.

He keeps his eyes on her, noting her reactions as he runs his hand over her shoulder and cups the back of her neck, fingers spreading out and gripping.He’s warm.He gives her a moment to… do something, move, push him off, whatever, and then… then he’s pulling her in.

It’s not _nice_.

He takes control of the kiss almost immediately, pulling her so she’s almost on top of him, braced against his chest, and the moment her lips part even a little, he’s pushing for more, pushing for everything, and she has to stop, has to pause for just a second… resting her forehead against his and trying to think clearly (she’s making out with Dan in Selina’s hotel suite, has she lost her mind _completely_?). 

She takes one long, shaking breath, wishing Dan wasn’t watching her the whole time, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s pulling him just as close, plundering _his_ mouth.

It’s like she’d forgotten that she could _enjoy_ kissing a man.

He’s snaked his arms around her, pressing her into him so that he can feel everything (and _she_ can feel everything) (and he’s broad and warm and firm and…)

But when he starts to slide the zip of her dress down, reality comes crashing back in.And Dan must feel it, because he stops, though his fingers run over the skin of her back in a way that she wishes she could stop noticing.

“What’s wrong?”

She keeps her voice low, very conscious that Selina and Jaffar are not that far away.“I’m trying to work out,” she says, “What you think I can do for you, and I’m stumped.”

“Sometimes, you know,” Dan says, bending to kiss her neck.“I just want sex from whoever will give it to me.”

Yeah.No.

“Well, good luck with that,” she says, and stands, shaking his hold off, though it’s difficult.

“Come on,” he says, pulling on her arm like he wants her to sit in his lap.

She’s drunk enough that he almost unbalances her, and she has to push against his shoulder to steady herself.“Fuck you, Dan.I am… _done_ being used as a fucking substitute for - I thought you at least knew the difference between a woman and your right hand, but…no, no, no, don’t touch me, I don’t want you to touch me.You want someone to use for the night and throw away, go down to the bar I’m sure there are plenty.”

“What, do I have to give you a diamond ring before you’ll -”

She laughs then, laughs in a way that might be slightly unnerving and says, “All you ever had to do was not be completely fucking toxic, but, let’s face it, that’s unlikely, so…”

She’s not sure who she’s more pissed at, him or Buddy, and she doesn’t want to think about it, so she picks up the champagne bottle in one hand and her clutch bag in the other, and leaves. 

Half an hour later, completely drunk, she texts Tony and tells him she will go out for that coffee.

Fuck _all_ of them.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t see Amy until the next Monday.She didn’t have to come in, not really - even the most devoted politician wasn’t shopping for a political consultancy on Christmas Eve, but Ben had suggested using the time to update the website with Amy’s bio. 

At the time, she’d seemed keen on the idea - whether because it would help her avoid her family or because it would demonstrate to the world that she had moved on from her Nevada scarecrow, he didn’t know - but she’s clearly lost whatever enthusiasm she had when she comes into the office. 

Since he’s the only one who knows how to update their content management system, it’s a safe bet that has something to do with him.

When she sees the pair of shoes he left on her desk she grimaces, like she just found an un-flushed toilet. But she doesn’t say anything, just switches on her computer and ignores him.

“Aren’t you going to thank me Cinderella?”

She spares him half a glance.“No.”

“Be nice,” he says, (he can’t help it, he’s entertained that one kiss was enough to set her on edge like this).“Or I’ll fuck up your bio - say you went to Bob Jones university.”

“No one would ever believe that.”

“Why?  You look like one of those… what was that phrase in the West Wing?Blonde republican sex kittens.”

“Fuck off,” she says, “I’ll do it myself, you can just log-in and leave me to…”

“But that would be much less fun for me.”

“What do you _want_?”

He chooses to answer her question with another question.“Why did you ghost me?”

“Ghosting is something you do to someone you’re dating, so…I didn’t.”

“That’s funny,” he says, “Cause it _felt_ a lot like being ghosted, so…”

“If you want me to believe that you have recognisable human feelings, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

“You ditched me the second we left the White House, don’t pretend otherwise.”

“Fine,” she says, rolling her eyes, “I did.I didn’t think you’d get your panties in a twist about it - I’m surprised you even noticed.”

“ _Why_?”

She doesn’t look at him this time.“Why not?It’s not like we’re…friends, you made sure I knew that, so… and I was _engaged_.   In Nevada.”

“From what, the day after the inauguration?”

“No,” she says, angry now, “The day after the inauguration I was in the hospital with my Dad, thinking he was going to die from a heart attack, and forgive me if I didn’t think you’d be particularly comforting in that situation.In any situation.”

“Ames,” he says, not sure how to respond to that information.“I didn’t know.”

“Like it would have made a difference.”She pauses, seeming to calm herself.“It was a shit time, okay?And I didn’t need you making everything worse, I already had Sophie to deal with.”

“And then _Buddy_ came swooping in with a diamond ring?”

She doesn’t say anything, but then she doesn’t have to, it all makes sense now.She doesn’t even bicker with him about her bio, just hands it over and lets him improve the text as he sees fit.(Her standard headshot seems all wrong to him - she has _wavy_ hair in it - but when he suggests taking another with his phone she waves him off).

She continues her to come as close to ignoring him as she can manage, given that they share an office and a business, and it starts to wear at him.When she’d agreed to come work for BKD, he’d felt like things were finally starting to fall into place, but ever since she’s spent more time talking to Ben and Kent than him.(She’s withdrawn even with them, but she seems to reserve a special go-fuck-yourself silence for him, and it’s pissing him off).

Which might be why he agrees to set up the client meeting in January.It’s a dick move, he knows that, but maybe, maybe it will be enough to make her crack at long last and things will go back to normal.

The newly elected Governor hopes to make the jump to the Senate the next time the seat opens up… a perfectly reasonable political ambition, or at least, reasonable for someone who isn’t Buddy Calhoun.

He’s disappointed in Amy’s taste, because surely, surely there are better glove puppets out there, but he smiles at him and offers him coffee, and assures him that Amy will be delighted to see him.

Dan almost regrets it when she walks in with Kent, smiling and laughing at some story he’d been telling her (she barely seems to laugh anymore), because the happiness visibly falls off her the moment she sees Calhoun. 

She doesn’t even let him get his spiel out, interrupting him and staring at Buddy.“What are you doing here?”

“Amy,” the man says, his voice western-slow and despicably sincere, “I want you back.”

“So?”

“So, I want… I want to do what we talked about, I can run for the Senate, and maybe with, with this whole team behind me, it won’t all fall on you, and you won’t be so tense all the time, and we can -”

“No.”

“We can move to DC, I know you didn’t like Carson City, we’ll be close to your family and your friends, and we could… start working on a family, all the things you -”

“Why in the name of fuck would you want to do that?”Amy is staring at Calhoun the way she used to look at Jonah - utter, punishing contempt - and it crosses his mind that maybe, maybe this wasn’t the bright idea he’d thought it was.“You hated the campaign,” she says, her voice shaking, “You hated every second of it, you were embarrassed by me.Do you need to have _shit_ sex that badly that you’ll come crawling all the way out here to humiliate me in front of -”

“Amy, I love you, I’ve never met anyone like you -”

“Nice girls can say fuck Buddy, welcome to the twenty-first century.That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Loving you isn’t a good enough reason?”

She laughs then, but it’s a cold sound, like it’s flaying something off her bones.“You love me?Your frigid _cunt_ of a fiancé?You’re really going to try to sell me on that one?”  


Buddy almost stumbles at that, as though Amy’s hit him.“Amy,” he says, “You know I don’t like that word.”

“Oh you don’t?Except when you’re drinking with your buddies the night before the election _I_ won for you and decide to tell them all about me.One of them even  _filmed_ it.He showed it to me, because he was worried it would derail your career.”

“I was very stressed during that week, you know that.It wasn’t about you.”

“Really?It sounds like it was about me,” Amy says, and her face is this strange mask, like she’s torn between pain and laughter.“Fortunately for you, I’d already decided to leave, which is why I didn’t bother… but it was _nice_ to have it confirmed just what you thought of me.Did you ever think maybe it wasn’t _my_ fault?Maybe I would have been more… if you’d _ever_ tried to make it good, or…but apparently I was just supposed to be your fucking fantasy humiliate-me-harder blow-up doll.”

“That’s not true, I… I love you.”

“You don’t even _like_ me,” Amy says, and for a second she looks much, much younger than usual.“You just think you’re supposed to marry a woman if you fuck her more than, oh, twice.Go home, Buddy.Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and Calhoun doesn’t move an inch, looking at her pleadingly.“I want you back, Amy.”

“Fine,” she says, picking up her coat, “If you won’t leave, I will.I can’t believe you came _here…_ oh wait, I can.”And then she looks Dan square in the face.“It was your idea, wasn’t it?You two deserve each other.”

And then she’s gone, and he and Kent have to go through the extremely awkward business of getting rid of Calhoun - and then he has to receive a stern talking-to from both Ben and Kent about not fucking things up like a teenager because the girl he likes told him to fuck off.(It doesn’t matter how many times he protests that he doesn’t give a fuck about Amy, Calhoun was a genuine opportunity, they just roll their eyes at him, Ben shaking his head and saying, “You realise the _only_ person who believes that is her?You think anyone who has _ever_ met the two of you would be fooled by that for a second?”)

Amy left her purse and her phone behind her when she walked out, and so, even after business hours are over, he waits.He doesn’t have plans for the evening, and…and maybe this time he should let her take her shot.

He falls into a kind of doze on the sofa, trying to read his iPad and not to listen out for her step, and he’s almost asleep when she finally comes back.In fact, she’s so quiet when she does come, that he doesn’t wake up until she’s standing at her desk.

She has her head down, scanning the notifications on her phone, and so she doesn’t realise he’s there until after she’s put it in her pocket.Her shoulders slump when she sees him, but all she says is, “Shit.”

“Thanks, that’s the reaction I was hoping for.”

“I’m _really_ not in the mood, Dan.”

“In the mood for what?”

“Anything.You.Your bullshit.Just… I’m going home.”

She slings her bag over her shoulder, about to leave, and he stands to intercept her.She makes an irritated sound, but doesn’t look at him, staring at his shoulder instead.“I’m going to go now,” she says, “Get out of the way.”

“No.”  


She looks up at him then, and her chin is shaking.“ _Why?_ ”

“Because we’re going to…”

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?”

She sounds angry, and it’s kind of a relief.Amy being furious is something he can deal with.

“What even was that?What, you get turned down once in your life, and for revenge you rub my face in… _why_?”

“Maybe I thought he was a potentially interesting client.”

She starts laughing, though there’s a crack in it that sounds like it’s hurting her.“You’re not that fucking stupid - you’ve seen him. Jesus, I _knew_ I shouldn’t have taken this job, I knew I should have -you want to know why I ghosted you? _This_ shit.   It never fucking stops with you. So, I’m done, I’m leaving, you can tell Ben and Kent thanks but no thanks, I have no interest in being tortured whenever you decide you’re bored and need a new hobby.What, were there no butterflies to pull wings off of or something?”

She’s winding herself up, getting more and more furious with him, and finally he says the only thing he can think of.“I’m sorry, all right.”

And then Amy _does_ laugh, right in his face.

“You wouldn’t fucking talk to me,” he says, “And I thought…I thought…”

“What, if you brought my ex into the office I’d weep on your shoulder or some shit?Or did you just want to remind me of my latest fuck up?”

“Ames,” he says, “Just fucking… breathe for one second, would you please?”

He’s standing between her and the door, which may be why she sits on the couch.It feels like she’s a thousand miles away, and he doesn’t have the faintest clue what to say to her, where to start.

“Guess he finally proved you right,” she says.“Does that feel good?Nothing but a shrill, tense, frigid unfuckable cunt.Everyone was right about me.”

She’s staring at the floor, not looking at him, and if she was talking to anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t notice that she’s almost on the verge of tears.

The next time he sees Buddy Calhoun he’s going to break that fucker’s legs.For a _start._

He can’t remember the last time he felt angry like this, and it’s a moment or two before he feels steady enough to sit next to her.She barely reacts, still hiding her face from him, and he puts his hand on her back.“You shouldn’t have wasted your time on someone who made you feel like - ”

“ _Obviously_ ,” she says, dashing a tear away with her thumb.“I just kept thinking...it was probably  _me_ , so unbearably fucking tense all the time, maybe I’d get to know him properly, and I’d be able to relax, but it kept getting worse and worse.So, I figured, I’d get him elected, and then maybe someone else would take a chance on hiring me after that and we’d both get something out of it.”

“So you _used_ him to get ahead in your career.”

“Guess I did,” she says, still staring at the floor.“You proud?”

“Amy, you could have shot him with a sawn-off shotgun and buried the body in the desert, and I wouldn’t care.”

“Yeah, I know.”She meets his eyes, finally, and she looks so… _sad_.“Are you going to let me go?”

“No.”

“Of course not,” she slumps, seemingly defeated. “I’m so _sick_ of feeling this way.”

“Well,” he says, and he’s starting to grin now, “I think I know what to do about that.”

Her expression is…quizzical, and it’s not until he leans in that she seems to realise what he has in mind.He takes his time, not wanting to spook her, but all her defences, her prickly, spiky, defences, must be down, because the moment he kisses her, she damn near _melts_ into him.

He doesn’t rush things, not even close, no, he taunts her almost, kissing her and fondling her for as long as she can stand, getting his hands and his mouth all over her.He wants her desperate for it, _yearning_ for it, wants to make her moan and cry and scratch. 

It’s worth it for the look on her face when she says, “Please,” arching her back, pressing herself into him and biting her lip.At least he knows he can give her what she wants.

Afterwards, when he’s caught his breath, he props himself up on his arms to kiss her - gently, softly.He leans his forehead against hers, so close he’s almost breathing her air, and tells her the truth.“I really missed you.”

“But you had C _B_ S, you wanted that more than anything.”

“It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,” he says, and kisses her cheek, her jaw, letting his weight crush her just a little.“Stay.Don’t fucking vanish, _again_.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not -” He sighs, sliding his hand into her hair and holding.“I want you to stay.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too hard.”

“Because what - I’ll remember what you’re really like, and come to my senses?”

He lets his other hand run up her leg, caressing her thigh just because he can.“Something like that,” he says, “I do have _some_ redeeming features, you know.”

“Sure,” Amy says, “You have _great_ hair.”

And then they’re laughing, and from laughter it only takes a moment to convince her to go for dinner with him, and then… well, he’s not about to let her go home alone, not when there’s so much they can _do_.

It’s not the end of the drama, of course. 

The next morning, he makes a joke about needing to get the couch cushions cleaned, and Amy freaks, as though she’s only just realised they didn’t use a condom.He damn near has to get Catherine on the phone before she’ll relax and accept that she doesn’t have to go running off to her gyno for the morning-after pill.(If Danny Chung hadn’t been coming in, he might have let her, but they all needed to be there for that meeting, so…)

She actually goes on a date with Jonah’s cousin’s Chief of Staff, as though she’s _trying_ to piss him off.(Date might be pushing it - they go for coffee, and Tony whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is insists on walking her back, so clearly smitten it’s a wonder he has enough blood left in his brain to form words).

They have a _loud_ argument about that, and end up fucking on the couch again, and by the end of it they’ve agreed (somehow), that neither of them will date anyone else. 

By the time they agree to take Selina on as a candidate, they’ve reached an equilibrium.He has her all to himself at long last, and Amy…Amy is awkward and wound up and stressed, but, _happy_ too.Even Kent comments on it - she’s fucking _glowing_.(The endless amounts of sex they’ve been having probably have something to do with that).

When he finds her sneakily buying a pregnancy test, she freaks out on him, and it takes yet another long argument before she’ll let him be there while she takes it. 

If anything, Amy’s more panicked than he is, and in a weird way… that steadies him.He knows what he needs to do, and he’s…kind of happy about it.He can stop pretending, stop dicking around, stopwasting time.Having her is so much better than not…

He’s never been so glad to see a little pink plus sign.


	7. The Happiest, Wisest, Most Reasonable End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU starting from 5.09 (I guess). Amy doesn't get pregnant the first time.

Selina’s speech went better than any of them had dared hope, and so the team went to the hotel bar for celebratory shots.Two tequilas in, and Amy can’t stop smiling, grinning at everyone as Dan reads out positive tweets about the speech, and actually snorting when Kent points out a blog post on Power Dressing Like Selina Meyer.

Gary’s so proud he actually lets her buy him a drink, and they get into a ridiculous conversation about how he’s not to throw cum at Jonah this time.(She’s not sure who looks more baffled, Dan or Leon).

Selina demands that Gary come up to her room to help her with what the fuck ever (Dan jokes that it’s a booty-call, and Amy laughs, and slaps his arm for making her laugh), and Ben and Kent say they’re departing for the night. 

She wishes Leon would go away - and from a certain look in Dan’s eyes, she’s fairly sure she’s not the only one.But having spent years in journalism, Leon is more than immune to basic social cues, and so he stays.He’s polite at least, asking Amy about the first Madison-Monroe dinner she attended with Selina, but even so…

It’s a relief when Dan interrupts to mention that _he_ was at that dinner too, though she could have done without hearing his stewardess story.She wrinkles her nose at him, because… _gross_ , and he grins and says, “Another?”

“I really shouldn’t - we have that flight in the morning…”

“So, make it a double?”

He wriggles his eyebrows at her, and she smiles back at him, she can’t help it, powerless to resist.Dan only grins wider, not even thrown off when Leon coughs and says, “I’ll have one, if you’re buying.”

“Sure,” Dan says, keeping his eyes on Amy, and she can feel herself starting to blush.

Still, any impulse to be girly dies the moment she’s left alone with Leon, because… he’s about as attractive as a crude oil douche (and probably worse for you).She doesn’t entirely like how he’s looking at her, but all he says is, “You and Dan have known each other a long time?”

“I guess you could say that,” she says, not wanting to get drawn into talking about it.“Longer than I’ve known most people in D.C. anyway?”

“Really?” Leon says, “And you still speak to him - you must be the only one.”

“Well,” she says, feeling like a sore is being picked at, “I guess that’s the luck of the draw.”

She takes out her phone, trying to signal that the conversation is over, and only lifts her head when Leon says, “I guess he’s found his next victim - wasn’t she on Chung’s team?”

She looks behind her, and sees Dan talking to a tall, red-headed woman who she’d seen at the dinner, who is tall, and gorgeous, and tall.

Fuck this.

“You know what,” she says, “I really can’t have a hangover on the flight tomorrow.I’m going to bed.”

And yeah, maybe she should feel guilty for abandoning Dan with only Leon for company, but… but he’d done the same thing to her, and…and there is no way she’s sticking around just to be part of a fucking trainwreck. 

Her hotel room is dull and soulless and it doesn’t take her long to plug her phone in and put on pyjamas.She’s arranging her clothes for the next day, and tidying up her carry-on when she hears a knock on the door. 

She freezes for a moment, and then scolds herself for being ridiculous - it’s probably just Gary having a panic attack, or Ben wanting to raid her minibar, or something.There’s no point in raising her expectations.

But she still looks through the peep-hole before opening the door, just in case, and… and it’s Dan.She bites her lip, because she’s not sure what…what to do next, and then jumps, because Dan raps again, right by where she’s resting her head.He must be leaning very close to the door, because she hears him say, “Ames - I _know_ you’re in there.”

Hearing his voice like that, low, private, it makes something twist in her, and, throwing caution to the winds, she opens the door. 

Dan leans in, propping himself up with one hand on the doorframe, and the heat in his gaze makes her tremble.She feels strangely shy, and the way his mouth quirks as he looks her up and down, taking in her Penn shirt and cotton shorts doesn’t help at all.Finally, he looks her in the eyes again, stepping closer as he does so.

She’s almost shaking with repressed nerves (or something) when he touches her cheek, but she doesn’t say anything, letting his hand glide over her jaw and round to the back of her neck.He dips his head, and she just has time to notice that his eyes are almost black before he kisses her.

And then it gets messy.She pulls, or he pushes maybe, either way, they wind up in her hotel room, and Dan pushes her back against the door, and his hands are _everywhere_. 

It doesn’t really work.She stands on the tips of her toes, straining every muscle to get to him, and even so…she’s still not close enough.She likes being crushed between his body and the door, likes being able to feel so much of him, but… but he’s just too far away.

So she starts to push him back, towards the bed, praying he won’t step on her toes on the way.He smiles against her mouth, but doesn’t object, devoting his energy to getting his hands under her shorts and pulling them off.

He’s much easier to kiss once he’s seated on the bed, and Amy stays standing in front of him, blindly trying to unbutton his shirt and remove his tie, without having to stop kissing him.Dan does the same, twisting in a strange way trying to take off his shoes.She stumbles, slightly, and feels Dan laugh, his breath huffing against her cheek.

They both take a moment to steady themselves, Dan lifting a hand to brush her hair out of her face.She feels like they’re breathing in unison, and there’s something strangely comforting in that.

But they’re not going to spend the evening breathing at each other, and so she presses him back into the bed, climbing on and grinding her hips against his.  
  
Not that Dan is idle while she does this, not a bit of it, he’s stripping her off too, all but tearing her shirt off and throwing it who knows where.She likes feeling his skin against hers, and she can’t quite hold back a contented little sigh when they’re finally pressed together properly.

She’d be tempted to tickle his stomach if she didn’t want him inside her without any further delays.She pins his arms over his head, and starts to move, gliding her hips back and forth until she has him in the exact right spot.Dan groans as she rocks, back and forth and back and forth, and in any other situation she’d smirk at him, but…but she just cants her hips at a steeper angle, savouring the _feel_ of him.

It’s even better when she lets go of his hands and he starts to touch her, gently, but just hard enough to create the right kind of pressure.She starts to lose it, gasping as she moves, and when Dan starts to jerk his hips up and into her…

She falls onto him when it’s over, her arms not strong enough to hold her up.She can feel Dan’s breath against the skin of her neck, her ear, and she listens as it gradually evens out and slows down. 

It’s a few minutes before she feels up to moving, but once she does she doesn’t waste time, slipping out of Dan’s hold and going to the bathroom to clean up.She takes her time with it, brushing her teeth and washing her face, even plucking a few errant eyebrow hairs, because the last thing she wants is to interrupt him halfway through getting dressed.If he’s going to fuck off she doesn’t plan on stopping him.She even considers having a shower - and then wonders if that might seem like she’s giving him permission, which…

At least he’s sterile, so she doesn’t have to find time to get Plan B the next morning.That’s something.

Despite her best efforts, she can’t hide her surprise when she comes out of the bathroom and he’s still in the bed.It’s weird and uncomfortable to be standing there naked with him looking at her, and she has to squash the urge to grab a towel or something to cover herself. 

Maybe he sees it, maybe he doesn’t, because all he says is, “You set your alarm?”

“I didn’t say you could stay.”

“No,” Dan says agreeably (too agreeably, he’s up to something), “You didn’t.But no one likes waking up alone after sex.”

Does he mean…

She doesn’t get to ask, because he stretches, yawning as he does so, “Besides, if I stay we can do it again in the morning.”

She folds her arms over her chest (knowing it looks silly, but still).“Only if I’m in the mood.”

He gives her a funny look.“Well obviously, Ames.Come here, you look ridiculous.”

She has not the faintest clue how to navigate this situation, so she does, stretching out beside him and hoping she doesn’t seem as awkward as she feels.She pulls the covers up so they’re covering her chest, and half-regrets it, because she can tell Dan knows what she’s doing.

He turns on his side, so he’s looking down at her, and smooths her hair down.“Why’d you leave?”

She’s not sure how to answer that question - she’s not even sure what question he’s asking - and so she shrugs, trying to seem careless.“Leon’s a creep,” she says, and doesn’t quite look at him.“And you were… he’s just a creep.”

“Okay,” Dan says, “Want me to buy you pepper spray?”  
  
She laughs then, though she doesn’t really know why - it’s not even close to funny.She really wants to kiss him.

“That’s okay.I can manage.”  
  
“Good,” he says, and lies down fully.One of his arms is stretched out across her chest, and it’s weird, because Dan is _not_ a cuddler, she’s pretty sure about that, but… but she likes it. She twists slightly, so she’s more…aligned with him, and says, “If I get too hot in the middle of the night I’ll kick you off.”

“Fine,” Dan says, eyes closed and clearly on the verge of sleep.“You do that.”

She doesn’t respond, but she does reach out to turn the bedside light off.Her expectation had been that Dan wouldn’t even notice, but he pulls her back in, closer to him and…fine… that’s just… fine.

 

She sleeps like a baby too, which just irritates her.It’s Dan’s hand gliding over her skin that wakes her, though that’s all he’s doing, letting his fingers explore the contours of her body, slowly, gently. 

It’s a nice way to wake up.

She turns into him, letting her eyes drift open.“What time is it?”

He lifts his head to look at her, and says, in a very quiet voice, “It’s still early.Your alarm hasn’t…”  
  
“Okay,” she says, lifting her hand to touch his face.The room is dim, and she can’t _really_ see him, but she can feel his stubble against her palm, and she likes it. 

They kiss, Dan’s hunger almost matching her own, and in only a moment he’s shifted so she’s under him, feeling him, hot and hard, between her legs.

She’ll never tell him, but he makes her _ache_ for…

He slides down her body, startling her, and she finds herself asking, “What are you doing?”

He presses a kiss on her abdomen and grins up at her, “Getting you in the mood.Unless… you have an objection to that?”

“I didn’t say stop.”

She sounds so sulky she kind of wants to laugh at herself, but when Dan sighs, irritated, she merely raises her eyebrows at him.If he’s going to do it he should just get on with it.

“You know,” he says, spreading her legs and pinning her right thigh down, “Most women would be grateful.”  
  
“I’ll be grateful when you’ve done something,” she says, and squeals when he squeezes her thigh. It rather undoes her attempt to seem cool and collected.

Not that there was much point in continuing that, because as much as she tries not to, she finds herself reacting when Dan touches her, swearing and biting her lip and fucking… babbling as he goes on.She doesn’t even know what she’s saying, it’s completely incoherent, but she does know that it’s turning Dan on, because the more she talks the harder he pushes, wanting her to react, she’s guessing, wanting to _make_ her break…

When she finishes, she needs…time, she’s not sure how long, to gather herself, turn her feelings into actual thoughts.And even then, it’s hard to… to say much, so all she does is grab at Dan’s shoulders, saying, “Get up here.”

He looks insufferably smug, but she doesn’t even care, it doesn’t matter, she’ll slap him later.Maybe he’ll be into that.

He was ready before he’d even touched her, so it’s not long until he’s inside her.He tangles his fingers with hers and presses her hands back into the mattress.She lets him, it’s what she wants, the feeling of his body against hers, but she pushes back too, meeting each thrust with one of her own, moving in rhythm with him.

He collapses on to her, moaning, “Amy, fuck,” in her ear, and she wants to swear too, but she doesn’t (she was getting there again until he…)

Still, from the way he’s gasping, she thinks he’s about done for the morning, and he _did_ make sure she got off so… she strokes his back, and when he leans up she smiles at him. 

“Christ,” he says, and rolls off her.She doesn’t turn over to cuddle up to him, because she’s pretty sure he won’t want that.In fact, she’s not even surprised when the next thing he says is, “I need a piss.”

It’s actually kind of a relief, so she just rolls her eyes and says, “Nice.”

The moment he closes the door, she rolls on her stomach, sliding her hand down to touch herself, because if she can just… she only needs a little more to… 

“What are you doing?”

She can’t even speak, she’s so embarrassed…and the grin on Dan’s face when she looks at him just makes it worse.“Nothing,” she says, hurriedly, trying to cover herself, wishing he’d leave.

But for the first time in… she can’t remember when, Dan’s face softens.Which is almost worse.

“Amy,” he says, sitting on the bed, closer than she’d like.“Come on, don’t be that way.It’s a compliment really.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, stroking her arm, “Did you think I’d be pissed off?”

She shrugs, not quite looking at him.She can’t explain.

“I mean I am,” Dan continues, still trying for more eye contact than she wants to give him.“I’m disappointed in you.It’s very selfish to not even let me help.”

“What?”

She looks back at him then, she can’t help it, he’s surprised her.

“I mean, I do have much bigger fingers than you, Ames, so I’m pretty sure I can be -”

“Ass,” she says, pushing against his chest.“It’s not that you didn’t, okay, that you didn’t, I wasn’t…faking it or anything, it’s just…”

“You weren’t done, I get it.You could have just told me.”

“No,” she says, “I couldn’t.You don’t know how hard it is to even…”

“Well then let’s stop talking about it, and get on with -”

“Okay,” she says, not wanting to fight about it any more, though she doesn’t quite know what to do next.But fortunately, Dan isn’t in the least bit confused, and finger-fucks her until she’s gasping, clutching at him and struggling to control her breath. 

He looks so smug, she can’t help herself, she kisses him, again and again and again, finally nestling her head in his shoulder, because… because…

It’s been so long since she was with someone who actually gave a fuck.Who thought it mattered if she got off or not.

Of course, she’d told herself not to express actual _affection_ for Dan, that’s insanity, but…

But somewhat to her surprise, he doesn’t shake her off or make a stupid joke - in fact she feels him kiss the top of her head, before saying, “Did you even check your phone?”

“Shut up.”

“Is that your comeback for everything now?”

“It’s early,” she says, yawning.“I’ll have better responses once I’ve had coffee.”  
  
“So will you be comparing me to intestinal worms or smallpox?”  
  
“That all depends on how much of a shithead you are once you come down from the -”

“I see,” he says, and there’s a weird chuckle in his voice.“So that’s how it is?”

“You do realise I actually know you?Unlike most of the people you… I know exactly how awful you can be.So, you should go now.”

“I gotta shower anyway,” he says, and lets go of her.“See you at breakfast.”

And she does.They talk about the speech, and the latest stories on politico, and whether it will be possible to throw Chung under the bus somehow and things are…surprisingly normal.She rolls her eyes when Kent starts rambling about the newest Star Trek series and manages not to get stuck sitting beside Leon on the plane, and things are…fine.

At least, until she gives into the urge and goes to make herself a coffee (she loves when they borrow private jets for exactly this reason).She’s waiting for the coffee-maker to finish, when she hears Dan cough. 

“Something wrong?” 

But when she turns her head to look at him, he’s smiling, and she realises what he has in mind.He steps closer as she looks at him, bracketing her with his arms, and whispering in her ear, “You know, I really like planes?”

Does he mean…

“No,” she says, though she doesn’t push him away.“Absolutely not.Selina’s like…six feet away.”

“Is that all?”

He sounds so entertained, it’s like he’s harmless.“No, that’s not all,” she says, “The bathroom on here is about two feet square, maybe, so… cool it.”

His hands are damn near plastered all over her ass, and her strict tone doesn’t have the intended effect, because he just grins, squeezing her butt more playfully than she might have expected.“Is that what you really want, Amy?”

She turns in his arms then, trying to keep a smile off her face.“There’s a time and a place.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but Dan beats her to it, kissing her deeply, pulling her all the way into him, and for all she shouldn’t make out with him in her _workplace_ , she lets him, she loves it. 

At least, she loves until she hears the word, “Amy, oh my god!”

They break apart to see Gary staring at them, clearly horrified, and unable to say anything more coherent than,”Oh my god, Amy.”

“Gary,” she says, “There’s nothing to -”  
  
“I’ll just…”

She hasn’t seen him look that traumatised since, oh, ever, and if Gary had ever remotely resembled an adult, she’d feel bad about it.He turns and leaves, fumbling his way back to his seat, and Dan starts laughing, quietly, his chest shaking as he tries to contain himself.

“It’s not funny, asshole,” she says, knowing it’s hopeless. 

“You saw his face, how can you say it’s not funny?”

She _really_ doesn’t want anyone overhearing, so she only whispers.“Now Selina’s gonna… there’s no way he’s not going to tell her, and then we’ll both be for it.Shit.”

“It’s not really not that serious.”

“Well how do you plan on explaining it?”As soon as the words have left her mouth she regrets them, and she holds up a hand to ward him off.“Actually, I don’t want to know.Just…”

“You really think she hasn’t been expecting it?”

“Why would she… whatever, either way, you need to…keep a lid on it.”

He rolls his eyes, but steps away from her, so she knows she’s won.For now.

When the plane lands, they discover that Buddy’s latest fuck-up has hit the news, and she gets to spend an hour or two trying to game-plan a response with Dan and Leon (she’d kind of suspected that he disliked Buddy, but clearly she’d underestimated him, because Dan is _livid_ ), and she’s so relieved when it’s over and their phones have stopped ringing that she agrees to go for a burger with him without really thinking about it.It’s just like old times.

Except, of course, when he offers to walk her home, and she realises she’s going to invite him in, even if it is _stupid_.

 

* * *

 

The sex is phenomenal. 

Like, it’s not as though he’d been doing without before, but all the same… getting to fuck Amy whenever the fancy strikes him (well, almost), is so much better than he’d expected.Especially when she actually _relaxes_ , and stops looking like she’s expecting him to slap her out of no where.

It can’t last, of course.

They go to a fundraiser, and he gets talking to Eva, a party fundraiser with legs that go on for miles, and a cloud of black hair. 

She could definitely be useful, so he gets her number.And Amy sees him do it.

She doesn’t lose her temper or yell at him - which he kind of expected - in fact she doesn’t even seem surprised. 

He lets himself think it’s a sign that they have an…understanding, even though they’ve never talked about it, and makes a date with Eva for the following weekend.When he tells Selina he’s got a senior party rainmaker on-side, she’ll be so thrilled she might be pleasant for more than two minutes together.Might.

It’s only when he suggests getting a drink that Friday evening that he realises he may have misjudged things. 

She’s not even looking at him as she says, “That won’t be possible.”

“Oh, you want to skip the foreplay, get straight down to -”

“No.”

And then she swings her handbag over one shoulder, and leaves, meaning he has to hustle to gather his things and catch up with her. He has to actually touch her shoulder before she’ll look at him. 

“What’s the fucking problem?”

“You know perfectly well -”

“You’re jealous,” he says, not entirely able to conceal his glee.

“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes, “That’s what it is.”

“Don’t be threatened, Amy, no supermodel-gorgeous fundraiser is ever going to take your place in my heart.”

Her smile looks like it’s causing her pain.“Go fuck yourself.And her.Whatever makes you happy.But you will not be getting anywhere near me, so…”

“Oh, you want to be exclusive, is that it?”

“You know what?Yes.Yes, I do.I have no interest in being part of some fucked up triangle or square or pentagon or whatever.You want a harem, good luck to you, I hope it’s great.You just won’t have me.”

“We both know you’ll come back to me eventually, Ames.”

“Oh really?You think I can’t do without you, is that it?In case you didn’t notice, I already _did_. _You_ were the one who called _me_ , I wasn’t about to…”

“So you’re going to go running off with the next dipshit who -”

“Maybe,” Amy says, and her voice is fierce.“Maybe I will, if he _asks_.I don’t stick around where I’m not wanted -”

“And yet, you’re still with Selina.”

There’s a moment where he thinks she might hit him, but it passes, and all she says is, “ _Fuck_ you, Dan.I am _done_ pretending to be all right with things when I’m not, okay, I have _had_ it with that shit.Now, you can either treat me like a human being or fuck off to your supermodel-gorgeous whoever, but I’m not waiting around to find out.”

He’s so pissed off, he spends the whole weekend at Eva’s place, fucking her breathless and thinking that Amy’ll be sorry when she finds out. 

Only, only that’s not what happens.She’s cool and polite and… cordial to him on Monday morning, and keeps the pretence up that entire week - it doesn’t matter what he does, he can’t get her to crack a smile, even, let alone go for lunch or dinner.She barely even _talks_ to him, directing her comments at Ben or Kent or even fucking Leon rather than address him directly.

It was one thing being ghosted by Amy when she was all the way across the country, but it’s another thing entirely when she’s in the same room. 

It’s intolerable.

But his attempts to fix things between them, or even get her to fucking _talk_ to him, all end in abject failure. 

Three weeks of being frozen out are enough to nearly break him (he wants to make her laugh again, wants to make her come again, and he’s not sure which he wants more), which is why he’s weirdly relieved when they go to Iowa to harass some caucus goers.

He’s relieved because it turns out that Selina had instructed Gary to book only one room for him and Amy.It might be her little joke, or even some weird way of giving her blessing, who the fuck knows, but it means Amy is stuck sharing space with him for four whole nights.

Not that Amy intends to cooperate with that.At first, she tries to book another hotel room, and then she tells him he’s going to sleep on the sofa, and when he flat out refuses, she says, fine, _she’ll_ sleep on the sofa, and then they’re in it.

Because this… this isn’t what he wanted, not even close.(And okay, when he’d heard that one of Selina’s interns, the one whose balls had barely dropped, had asked her out, that had pissed him off, but…)

When he tells her that fine, they’ll be exclusive, he’s up for that, Amy takes a step back, as though he’d punched her in the chest. 

She doesn’t believe him.

She doesn’t believe him, and she has a whole host of questions for why he’s doing it, what changed his mind, does he have some kind of head injury, was he recently diagnosed with a terminal illness, what about all his other girlfriends, has he thought about that -

He kisses her because it’s the only way he can think of to stop her downward spiral.

They don’t talk much after that.

In fact, their entire time in Iowa is a haze of fucking and campaigning, and even though the campaign is going well, he honestly thinks the fucking is better.

They’re at a barbecue in Ames, Iowa (Dan’s the _only_ one who didn’t have fun with that little fact), when he overhears her talking to Ben about how her lease is up for renewal, and she’s not sure whether to look for somewhere new or not. 

He interrupts, handing her a pulled pork sandwich and a coke, and says, “You should just, you know, move in with me.”

Amy’s mouth hangs open as she stares up at him.“What?”

“It’d be more convenient.”

“You’re…skipping a few steps there, Dan.”  
  
“Okay, one,” he says, “Little Miss Ran Off to Nevadaa with a Sex Offender she barely knew doesn’t get to tell me I’m rushing things -”

“You have _got_ to let that go.”

“And two, this isn’t some soppy bullshit, it’s practical.”He leans in, lowering his voice.“We could fuck a lot more if we were in the same -”

“Is that why you do everything?” 

He shrugs.

“Moving in together, that’s a big…I mean, it’s not like ‘dating’ it’s a whole other -”

“Stop freaking out.I already know that you shit from time to time, Amy.And I bet you even use tampons too.”

“Yeah, but…” 

Her voice trails off, and she stares up at him for a moment, seemingly lost.

“I said I was in, Amy.”

“Right,” she says, still looking confused.

So, he kisses her, taking his time, and gathering her close.

To his surprise, it doesn’t work.She’s still in some kind of funk, baffled by something he’s done or said, and even when Selina joins them, she doesn’t snap out of it (though she _is_ looking at her phone, which is at least some improvement).

She doesn’t even snap out of it when Selina has to ask her a question a second time, and it takes Selina saying, “I don’t care what kind of fuck fog you’re in, Amy, I need you to do your fucking job.Jesus, is the sex really _that_ good?”  
  
“No,” Amy says, and then seems to think better of it, “I mean - I didn’t mean, I - I will get right on that Ma’am.”

She darts away, seemingly relieved to get away from them both, and between one thing and another (and some weird car fuck-up Dan doesn’t understand), he doesn’t even see her until they’re back at the hotel, preparing for drinks with the Mayor.Selina wants to take advantage of the opportunity to normalise with the locals (that is, caucus voters), and he’s kind of surprised when Amy cries off. 

She’s tired, she says, and drained, and she’s going to just have a bath and go to bed.

It’s so out of character that he leaves the event early to rejoin her.Maybe she’s freaked at the thought of living with him, or maybe she wanted to avoid Leon, or maybe…He’s not sure what could be wrong, but he wants to see her.

She’s not in bed, when he gets back, she’s sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning against the side of the bath with her legs stretched out in front of her.She has her arms crossed in front of her chest, and her eyes are red, like she’s been crying, and Dan finds himself hoping like fuck that her Dad hasn’t died or something.

She barely acknowledges him when he comes in, and he sits on the toilet before saying anything.She looks so much smaller - so much _younger_ \- like this.

“Did the world end in the last two hours?”

Amy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t meet his eyes, but holds out a little white stick. 

And Dan’s stomach seems to fall through the floor.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Amy says, hugging herself tighter. 

“You know there are false positives -”

“I did four,” she says.“All different brands.You said this couldn’t _happen_.”

She looks up then, and he can see it in her face, just how _betrayed_ she’s feeling.“According to the best medical authorities, it can’t,” he says, “So, I guess we have a miracle on our hands.”

“I’m not having an abortion.”

“Oh-kay.”

He needs a second, to think through the ramifications of that, what it means, but a second is much too long for Amy, because she continues, sounding almost angry, “I don’t care what you say, I’m not having one, you can’t make -”

“Sssh, sssh,” he says, “I didn’t say anything about -”

“You’ve only had fifteen seconds, you haven’t geared up yet.”

“Ames, come on.”He sits down beside her, pressing his shoulder against hers.“I said I was in.”

“Yeah, for co-habiting and fucking, not this, we haven’t talked about -”

“I said I’m in, and I meant it.”

She flies at him then, he doesn’t think she even means to do it, but his arms, his lap, his hands are full of her, and she’s kissing his face, and fucking…crying. 

It takes her a couple of minutes to calm down, and he finds himself chuckling.“Where you really _that_ scared to tell me?”

“I thought you were going to drop-kick me into the next state,” she says, sounding as though she feels very sorry for herself.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Brookheimer.”

Amy sniffs, and presses her lips to his throat.“Good,” she says, “Because I’m going to need help if I’m going to fuck this kid up in every way humanly possible.”

“Sounds like fun,” Dan says, standing and extending an arm to pull her up with him.“Maybe we should have more than one.”

“Please, with your sperm it’s a miracle we managed that much.”

“Well,” he says, ‘I don’t know about that.Sounds like they were just as excited to get into you as I was.”

Amy yawns, and lets him push her towards the bed.“You’re an ass.”

“I know.”


	8. Your Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Nevada, Amy meets (and eventually marries) Buddy Calhoun, political rockstar. AU starting from 5.02.

 

He first meets Buddy Calhoun at a drinks event in DC. 

Well, that’s not precisely true.He _had_ met him before, in Nevada, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time - he’d been too focused on other things to care.It was only when his Senatorial campaign hotted up, and the national media started focusing on the handsome young wannabe Junior Senator for Nevada, that Dan had paid it much thought.

He’d even interviewed him, for CBS This Morning, though it hadn’t been a particularly memorable experience.

Calhoun had batted back all the difficult questions with insulting ease, and Dan had been too concerned about Jane, and how she might screw him over that day, to really push the way he should have.

Other than a generalised impression of smoothness, he hadn’t got much sense of what Buddy was actually like, and he couldn’t say he understood why Amy had got herself engaged to him.

On the day all the new Senators are sworn in, there’s a reception in the Capitol, welcoming them to their new role and the grand fellowship of the United States Senate.Ben snags them some tickets, saying it might be useful for BKD to attend, potentially they could rustle up some business.

It means having to pretend to enjoy cheap wine and mediocre canapés, but  some of these assholes are bound to be harbouring Presidential ambitions, so at least their suffering is productive. 

It’s Ben who sees him first.“Senator Calhoun,” he says, “Come over and say hello.You’re practically family, after all.”

Dan would be tempted to argue with that assumption, but it’s probably not worth the effort.Besides, he’s too startled by how _big_ Calhoun is, in real life, to think of a snappy comeback.He knew a little of his biography, of course, knew that he’d served in the Air Force Special Forces before becoming the Nevada Secretary of State, but he hadn’t followed that fact through to its logical conclusion.

Calhoun is tall, with broad shoulders and big hands, bright blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard.He gives Ben a warm, wide smile, and holds his hand out to shake with absolute confidence.“Ben Cafferty, right?”He seems _amused_.“Amy’s told me about you.She’s on the phone, she’ll be back in a minute.”

“Of course she is,” Dan says, entertained that _that_ at least hasn’t changed.

“I don’t think I -”

“Dan Egan,” he says, and shakes Calhoun’s hand.“Amy’s probably mentioned me.”

“No,” Buddy says thoughtfully, still holding Dan’s hand in a firm grip.“I don’t think she has - wait, _you’re_ Dan.Sophie’s talked all about you.”

Ben snorts with laughter, which doesn’t make Dan feel any better, and he’s momentarily stuck for what to say.Fortunately, Kent intervenes, saying, “We were very impressed by your campaign.”

“Oh, I can’t take the credit for that,” Buddy says, pausing to put his arm around Amy, who has just joined them.“It’s my campaign manager who did most of the work.Everything okay, sweetheart?”

Amy rolls her eyes at the pet name, but doesn’t shake his arm off or move away like Dan expected.“It’s nothing major, some journalist wants a comment on Reno, that’s all.Hi Ben, Kent.”

“We were just saying, Amy, you ran a hell of a campaign out there.”

“Thanks,” she says, dimpling up at Ben, and jesus… she looks… she’s different, definitely, she’s gained weight, a little, he can tell, and her hair is longer, but it’s her demeanour that’s really changed.The Amy he’d known had been all coiled tension, her shoulders wound tight and stiff, but now… she seems loose and at ease.“It was fun.”

“Fun,” Buddy says, “Do you know how many of the campaign staff you made cry in the last week?”

“Less than I should have,” she fires back, “Besides, you enjoyed being the shoulder to cry on, it made you look _so_ understanding.”

“If we were going to have a functional campaign -”

“I’m not the one who _forgot_ the opening of my stump speech.”

“I was distracted,” Buddy protests, though from the smile in his eyes, Dan can tell he’s enjoying the entire thing.“You had that red dress on - you were very -”

“You do not get to blame that on me,” Amy says, “I took care of your ‘distraction’ long before we - it was a miracle you didn’t forget which town we were in.”

“As though I would ever insult the good people of Jarbridge by confusing them with any of the other good people of Nevada.”

“You’re not on the campaign any more,” Ben says, “You don’t have to pretend.”

“I may have him too well trained,” Amy says, and squeals when Buddy pinches her waist.

“Whose idea was it to use a plane to get around the state?"

“His,” Amy says, “It was my idea to get pictures, and footage though.I wasn’t expecting the…pyrotechnics when we arrived in Las Vegas.”

“They were irresponsible in area with so many people,” Kent says, “Though I imagine they noticeably improved your standing in the polls.”

“It helped that the incumbent was roughly a hundred and seventy,” Amy says, “But…still.”

“Anyway,” Buddy says, “We’re settling down in D.C. for the foreseeable future, and somehow, I don’t think there’ll be as many opportunities to fly here.”

“Of course,” Ben says, “I should have asked - when’s the wedding?”

“Wedding?”

He didn’t mean to say it out loud - it was stupid to say it out loud - and the look Kent gives him makes him want to punch someone.

“Actually,” Amy says, seemingly ignoring his outburst, “We’re already married.”She holds up her left hand, flashing her wedding band and engagement ring at them.“We kind of…eloped.”

“We didn’t _kind_ of elope,” Buddy says, “We full-on, properly eloped, because, and I quote, ‘my family will turn this whole thing into a fucking circus’.”

“Which they would have,” Amy says, “You know my Mom would have been so happy to finally have one of her daughters married at long last she would have had a stroke or something.Anyway,” she says, looking at Ben and Kent again, including them in the conversation, “We ran off to Reno the day after the election.”

“And then we slept in for eighteen hours, I think it was, it was so romantic.”

“You know perfectly well why I was so tired,” Amy says, and Buddy’s face softens as he looks at her.“We spent like three days in crisis mode, because of that fucking Leon West story, and I was trying to make the press talk about _anything_ else.”

“And you managed it,” Buddy says, “”That crisis is over, you can relax.”

Dan’s about to crack that Amy’s not _capable_ of relaxing, not without horse-strength tranquillisers, but she surprises him by saying, “I know.And it’s going to be less…intense from now on.”

“You know,” Kent says, “The three of us have set up a consultancy shop, in K Street.I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d love to have you on board Amy.”

Dan’s not entirely sure he agrees with that.

“Oh,” she says, “I hadn’t heard.”

“We could really use you,” Ben says, “Bring a little bit of the feminine touch.”

She smiles then, wide and happy, “I don’t know - we have to get Buddy’s office set up, and -”

“But you might enjoy the consultancy more,” Buddy says, “Once the office is up and running, I don’t know that you’ll enjoy all the constituency work.”

“We agreed that we would get you -”

“Yeah, but if there’s a better option for you out there, I want you to take it, Ames.”

“Being a Senator is like a whole other level, you’re not ready -”

“Oh, are you my training wheels?It wouldn’t be very good for my reputation as a champion of feminism if I held my wife’s career back.”

Amy’s face twists in an expression that’s half a smile and half frustration, and she’s clearly struggling not to laugh as she says, “Obviously we need to talk about this more, but -”

“Why don’t you come in tomorrow,” Ben says, “See the office, hear about our plans… we’ve got some stuff coming up that I don’t think you want to miss.”

“Okay,” she says, “I’ll be free in the afternoon.”

“You were supposed to meet Sophie for -” 

Buddy’s tone is suspiciously knowing, and Amy clearly realises it, because she gives him a Look.“Exactly,” she says, “I’ll be free.”

“You and Sophie not on speaking terms?” 

He can’t help himself, he has to ask, she’s been practically ignoring him this entire time, he wants to get some kind of spark out of her, _something_.

“No,” Amy says, “She’s just pissed because she didn’t get to be in the wedding, and she’s been bitching and moaning ever since, so… I will happily spare myself that.”

He’s tempted to make a joke about ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ but before he can work out how to do it, Amy turns to Buddy and says, “Can we go?We can catch up with Senator Douchebag tomorrow, and I feel like my head is about to roll off my shoulders.”

“Sure,” Buddy says, “It was nice to meet all of you.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know them,” Amy says, and her voice is teasing, “Kent’s a robot, Ben’s perpetually miserable and Dan…”  
  
“What about me?”

“Dan only knows how to act like a human when there’s a camera.Anyway,” she says, “We really should go.I want to unpack at least one box tonight.”

“We’ll text you the address,” Kent says, and she smiles at him.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She smiles at them, and then she and Buddy make their way out, pausing to speak to roughly two dozen people on the way.

“He seems like a good guy,” Ben says, and Dan can’t help himself.

“Please, it’s obviously all a front, he was just using her to get elected.They’ll be divorced in like a month.”

There’s a pause, and then Kent says, “I think that’s an extremely revealing statement.”

“What, you think _I_ wanted to marry Amy Brookheimer, you think that’s why - come the fuck on.”

“Well, Danny Boy,” Ben says, “If you didn’t want to marry her, I’m glad she found someone who did.She’s a good kid, she deserves someone who puts a smile on her face.”

“I’m getting another drink,” he says, and shoulders his way through the crowd until he reaches the bar.

He doesn’t want to think about Amy's soupy grin, the way she’d seemed to relax into Buddy’s touch, how… _uninterested_ she’d been in anything he had to say.

It’s _bullshit_.

Amy used to smile when _he_ wanted her to, used to laugh when _he_ wanted her to, she hasn’t forgotten that, she hasn’t replaced him with some Danny-Chung-meathead, there’s no way she’s just forgotten everything they…

Like, he’d known that she was upset by his sleeping with Sophie, but to take it to this extreme, to run off and marry someone she barely knows, is just ridiculous.She’s going to come to her senses, any day now, and beg him to go for drinks with her and tell him what a complete mistake it was to marry someone else, he’s sure of it.

Except, that’s not what happens.

Amy comes to the meeting at BKD, and seems genuinely thrilled that Selina is planning to launch another campaign, excited at the thought of rejoining her old boss…

But when it comes to the point of signing on the dotted line or not, she hems and haws and demurs, and eventually Ben tells him that she and Selina have agreed Amy will join the campaign in August, before the official announcement.She’s going to help get Buddy’s office set up in the meantime.

They’re a huge hit.Buddy Calhoun - young, handsome, with a chest full of military medals and a pretty blonde wife - is the flavour of the month, and Dan has to read dozens of articles about them being the newest DC power couple.He takes up worthy causes like PTSD in military veterans and forcing large corporations to publish data about their gender pay gap, and the endless gushing about him starts to stick in Dan’s throat. 

Even Selina approves of him, apparently, saying that the campaign may be able to use him as a surrogate once they’re properly up and running (Dan thought that was going to be _his_ job), and he could definitely have done without hearing how Amy looks like she’s being properly fucked at long last, Selina’s never, _ever_ seen her look like that before.

He tries to take some comfort in the thought that once they’ll be working on the campaign together, spending all that time one-on-one is bound to lead to _something_ … but since Amy never seems interested in talking to him, or even going for a coffee to catch up, it’s hard to be sure things will work out the way he wants.

He’s being ignored by Amy Brookheimer for the first time in his life, and he fucking _hates_ it. 

And what’s worse, he’s the only one - Ben, Kent, Gary, Selina - they _all_ think Calhoun is just the best fucking thing ever, Selina even tells him to stop being so pissy about it all, which is goddamn infuriating.

And in the meantime, no one in DC seems interested in dating him.Apparently stories have got round, he doesn’t know how, and not a single woman on the Hill will even give him the time of day.He’s reduced to going on fucking _tinder_ , and even then… there’d been a time when his idea of heaven had been a succession of twenty-two year olds, but now…

None of them laugh at his jokes - none of them _understand_ his jokes - and none of them are interesting to talk to, and… he never thought this would happen, but he’s, to quote Jonah, ‘drowning in pussy’ and he _doesn’t_ like it. 

Catching glimpses of Amy with Calhoun - arguing with him in a coffee shop, splitting dessert with him in a French restaurant, kissing him goodbye when he drops her off at the BKD offices...

He’s so sick and tired of hearing about Amy and her fucking love story, that he starts to tune out whenever she’s mentioned.Which is why it comes as a huge shock when, one day when they’re in California doing a fundraiser, the tv rooms in their hotel room are suddenly full of pictures of Amy and Buddy.

There’s been a plane crash, apparently, Buddy had been flying them out to a remote area of Nevada, and something went wrong, no one knows what, and no one knows if they’re okay, and…

It’s the longest night of Dan’s life.

He calls Sophie Brookheimer, of course, figuring she’ll know what the fuck is going on, but all she tells him is that Amy is in surgery, and no matter how many times he calls her back, it doesn’t change.

The tv crews droning on about how she’s in “very serious condition” do nothing to help - he’s been on the other side of this, he knows that’s code for about to fucking croak. 

He spends so long checking his phone that Selina gets pissed off - she’s midway through yelling at him when the news alert comes through.Buddy Calhoun, junior Senator for the State of Nevada and all round political genius… is dead.

They had to wait, presumably, to inform his family, because the reporter says he was declared dead on arrival at the hospital.She doesn’t say anything about Amy.

He’s half-tempted to rent a car or something and drive there, but then he imagines getting the news that Amy’s dead on the side of the highway, and he…can’t do it.

They’re gathered in Selina’s suite, talking over what’s happened (well, Ben and Kent and Leon are talking it over, Dan can’t talk any more, can’t fucking take even listening to them all, so he’s sitting there, scrolling through his phone and ignoring everyone), when she gets the call.

She puts it on speakerphone, perhaps because she’s noticed how freaked out he is.

It’s Amy’s Dad. 

“Madam President,” he says, “I thought you should be one of the first to know.”

She’s dead, jesus fucking christ, Amy is _dead_ , and he wasn’t even…

It feels like a entire century passes before he continues.

“She’s out of surgery, and she’s going to live.They seem fairly confident about that much at least.”

“At least?” 

He’s glad Selina asked because he… he _couldn’t_.

“She was…”There’s a hitch in Amy’s Dad’s voice.“She was… impaled, they said, a piece of the wreckage, and it went… they said it may have been too close to her spine.They’re not sure, they won’t know until the swelling goes down.But… she’s alive, and she’s going to live, and that’s… a lot.She lost too much blood, they said, she shouldn’t even be… but she’s alive.”

“She always was a fighter,” Selina says, and then Amy’s Dad fucking breaks down.His breathing sounds distorted by the speakerphone, and Dan can hear the wet sounds of snot and tears and… 

“Thank you Ma’am,” he says, when he’s recovered at least some composure.“I know how much it would mean to Amy to hear you say that.The hospital are putting out a statement or something soon, but I wanted to let you know.”

The call ends, and it’s like someone let off a canister of laughing gas in the room.Selina starts talking about the fundraiser and whether this means Amy will join the campaign sooner or not and if Leon can use this to generate some positive press, and it goes on and on and on and… Dan feels like he’s going to faint.

He lets the campaign talk wash over him, and eventually makes his excuses and gets the fuck out of there.There’s too much noise, too many people, it’s too hard to think, he needs quiet.

When he gets back to his hotel room, he does something he hasn’t done willingly in _years_ , and calls his mother. 

She’s startled to hear from him - especially so early in the morning (it’s just before eight am, Florida time) - but she chats to him happily about what she’s doing in the garden and how his father is, and how impressed her friends are by his having his very own consultancy…

By the time he hangs up, the pillow is wet on both sides of his head, which is how he realises that he’s been crying, this whole time.

She’s going to live, he reminds himself.She’s alive.

 

* * *

 

Her Mom finally leaves a month after the plane crash.She’d insisted on referring to it as ‘the accident,’ insisted on treating Amy like an invalid, trying to help her climb stairs and checking on her every night before she went to bed.

She’d been driving Amy insane.

She only left when Amy promised, and promised, not to lift any heavy objects, to take care of her stitches, to look after herself and call regularly.

Buddy’s mother is in hospital - dying of liver cancer - and so Amy gets herself out of bed every second day to go visit her.They don’t really have anything to talk about, but the woman’s son is dead, and she doesn’t have any other close family, so Amy feels an obligation.

The rest of the time she mostly spends in bed.She’d made it through the memorial service - somehow, though she doesn’t really know how.There’d been press everywhere, and Amy had tried to focus on pushing Buddy’s mother’s wheelchair, because if she’d looked at any of the cameras she might have screamed out loud. 

Everyone _loved_ Buddy so much, apparently, everyone was _so_ devastated at his loss, everyone wanted to see her weep and wail and tear her hair, so they knew she cared just as much as they did.

Watching endless news reports and occasionally stumbling into the kitchen to make a coffee is a relief.No one is looking at her, and who cares if she’s mostly surviving on microwave popcorn and the occasional apple?

She cries, occasionally, late at night, when the weight of the silence in Buddy’s condo gets too much, and it hits her, all over again, just how much has changed.It doesn’t matter how miserable she is, how sad, how lonely, Buddy is _not_ going to come walking through the door to make things better. 

She sends her Mom the occasional text, if only so she won’t call the cops to Amy’s door, but otherwise she stays in her cocoon.Even walking to and from the local store, and having to talk to the cashier, is too much for her sometimes, and she goes an entire two days without any food at one point, because she just can’t face talking to anyone.

Three and a half weeks in, she starts to notice there’s a lot more activity on her phone.It lights up several times a day, with calls from Ben, from Selina, from Gary.Even Sophie has started texting her. 

She doesn’t answer - she doesn’t want to talk to anyone, to be made to come back out into the world and speak to people and rebuild her life.Fuck all of them.

After ten days or so of this, Amy just turns her phone off, buries it in her bedside cabinet and leaves it there. 

Which is why, perhaps, it comes as such a shock when midway through one morning, there’s a knock on her door.

She’d fallen asleep on the couch, and her hair is tangled all around her head, and she hasn’t changed her shirt in two days, but so fucking what?

She’d assumed it would be the mailman, or some fucking evangelical who’d had her pop up as recently bereaved on their database, but it’s someone even more unexpected.

When she finally opens the door, she discovers that Gary Walsh is on her doorstep.

He does that thing where he pretends not to notice that she looks like a crazy person, and insinuates himself into the apartment.She’s so surprised to see him, she doesn’t even think to argue.

Selina has an event that evening, apparently, in Carson City (some snooze fest she’d never dream of attending if it didn’t give her the opportunity to charm caucus-goers), and she’d sent Gary on ahead, to make sure Amy would come with her and advise.

She tells him to fuck off, that she’s not going anywhere, that she doesn’t want to see _anyone_ , that Selina will manage perfectly well without her, and Gary just smiles and suggests that he make them some breakfast.

She’s being handled, she can tell, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight him off.So, she lets him make her eggs, and even forces herself to eat some of them.Thankfully, Gary rambles at her about the campaign and Selina and how much he hates Leon, so she doesn’t have to talk.She doesn’t have anything to say.

He cleans up around her, tidying the sitting room and taking out the trash (the kitchen of course is fucking pristine, but that’s no surprise).Once he has her apartment arranged to his satisfaction, he sits beside her and tells her he’s going to help her get ready for the event. 

“I’ve already booked you a hair appointment,” he says, “So, you can go get a cut and colour, and when you come back, I’ll have picked out some outfits for you.”

“No,” she says.She’s not getting off the couch, not for anyone.

“Amy, sweetie, you know how important hair is to Selina, and you really do need a cut, it’s getting -”

“I’m not cutting it, she can fuck off, and so can you.”

“You’ll feel a lot better if you get a new style - maybe you could go back to your old bob?”

“I’m not _cutting_ it, Gary.Buddy loved my hair.”

The moment she says it, she feels kind of sick, and seeing Gary’s face, seeing him look like he might burst into tears, just makes it worse.She can’t take it, all his fucking sympathy, so she stands and says, “Where’s this fucking appointment then?”

He hands her a printed email confirmation, and Amy takes it.She doesn’t bother getting dressed properly, just pulls on a dress and some underwear.She doesn’t give a fuck what the hairstylist thinks of her.

When she finally gets there, they’re very…gentle with her, in a way that just makes her feel worse - Gary must have warned them someone unstable was coming in.The music, the sound of the hairdryers, the conversations, it’s all too much… as the stylist snips away, all Amy can think about is that someone’s cutting her hair off and Buddy won’t care what it looks like, because Buddy’s dead.

She barely recognises her own face in the mirror.

When she gets back to the apartment, she discovers that Gary has gone out and bought food - and flowers - has freshened everything up.On one level, she should be grateful, but she can’t help it, she resents the intrusion into her life, into her grief.If she wants to become a hermit, who the fuck is he to stop her?

Which might be why she starts a fight with him about the outfits he’s chosen.She’s not going out in cerise pink, no fucking way, she’s not dressing like some pageant participant just because it would make Selina feel good.

They compromise on a navy blue dress and black heels, and it’s only when Amy’s in the car with Gary that she realises just how she’d let him manipulate her.

She’s so not ready for this.

Fortunately, or not, it turns out Selina was only giving a short speech at the event, and what she really needed Amy for was a brainstorm about how to handle the local party elders who were coming to meet her in the hotel suite.

Which is something Amy thinks she can just about handle, though she’s still nervous as fuck about seeing everyone again.She only gets a few moments to prepare before Gary brings her in, and…it’s exactly like old times, everyone talking at a mile a minute, and phones going off, and tv screens blaring, and…

Selina smiles as soon as she sees Amy, taking her by the arm and telling her at length how well her speech went, and asking for pointers on what to say to various high-ups, and Amy mumbles responses and tries not to look at anyone.

The whole thing is excruciating, particularly when three members of the Gambling Control Board arrive, and pause to tell her how sorry they are for her loss, before getting down to business with Selina.

The meetings go comparatively well, and Ben suggests celebrating with pizza and beer before she can think of a polite reason to leave.She lets them talk it all out, lets the sound of their voices wash over her, very, very occasionally interjecting a comment on the local party politics, when it seems relevant.

She’d hoped that that would be enough to keep Selina happy, but she hadn’t reckoned with Dan.

Even looking at him is hard, even looking at him reminds her of why she ended up with Buddy in the first place, reminds her of everything she’s lost, so she’d avoided his gaze.

Maybe that pissed him off, maybe not, but the second time she refuses a slice of pizza, he decides to add his opinion to proceedings. 

“You know,” he says, “If he loved you so fucking much, I’m pretty sure he’d be pissed at you for trying to starve yourself.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“Well if he was the kind of shit who was totally fine with you losing half your body weight in six weeks, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have married him in the first place, so -”

“Shut up.”

“Have you looked in a _mirror_ lately?”

She hears Gary murmuring to Selina that he really did try, he tried his best, but there’s only so much he can do when…

For a moment, just a moment, she gives serious consideration to reaching across the coffee table and scratching her nails down Dan’s face - anything that will make him stop - but all she says is, “Ma’am, I’m afraid I have to go.”

“No, no, no,” Selina says, “We were going to talk about you coming onto the campaign.”

She hates letting her old boss down, especially when she knows at least thirty percent of this is motivated by genuine concern, but…

“There’s just no way I can do that.”  
  
“Amy, come on,” Selina says, “You spend all day staring at the walls - at least with me you’d be useful.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she says, “It just won’t be possible.”And then she takes her purse and her jacket, and leaves. 

She didn’t expect that Dan would follow her, but that’s what he does, stalking after her as she leaves the hotel.He’s pissed off, she can tell, sputtering and bitching in the way that he does when he’s surprised himself by getting angry. 

“So, that’s it,” he says, “You’re just going to walk the fuck away.”

“Yeah.”

It’s a nice night, and if she wasn’t wearing heels, and she wasn’t six or seven miles from home, she’d seriously consider walking home.

“That’s your whole plan, become some kind of fucking shut-in?How does that help anyone?”  
  
“I don’t fucking know,” she says, “Who gives a shit about ‘anyone’?Fuck them if they have a problem with it.”

“Amy,” he says, touching her arm, “You should fucking think about it.There’s a place for you here.”

“To what, go back to being Selina’s bitch and pretend like nothing happened and I’m exactly the same and she can make me go on dates with people?No.This _happened_.”

“It won’t be like that,” he says.

“What the fuck do you care?What is it - can’t you hack the campaign if you don’t have someoneto torment every day?Fuck that, Dan, I’m not showing up so you can get your ego fluffed.”  
  
“That’s not what - Amy, just _think_ about it.”

“I have a physical therapy appointment in the morning,” she says.(She doesn’t, but hopefully Dan will believe her and let her go).

There’s something in his face then, some expression she can’t read, but all he says is, “Call me when you get back to D.C.”

“No.Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because I want to know that you’re all right.”

He all but shouts it at her, and… and the awful part is, two years ago, hearing him say that would have melted her, would have broken every barrier down, but now…

“Whether am I all right, or not, has literally _never_ mattered to you in any way,” she says, “So… I don’t know why you got it into your head to start now, but…I don’t _care_ , Dan.Good luck with the campaign.”

And then a cab pulls up and she goes home.

Except, of course, it’s not that easy.Fortunately, she and Buddy are both covered by Senate health insurance, which makes most of that headache go away, but she has to deal with his will, and getting a court order to turn off his life support, and planning for a funeral (that she can’t confirm a date for until the court deals with the case).And then Buddy’s mother dies, and she has to handle all the arrangements for that too. (Her Dad flies out to help, which makes things a little easier).

Within three months everything she ever valued in Nevada is gone, and all that’s left is money.(She doesn’t have any idea how to feel about the massive life insurance policy Buddy had set up when they got engaged, so she just doesn’t think about it).

The biggest surprise of all though is when the Governor asks for a meeting.She puts it off until after her final appointment with the physical therapist, but eventually she has to go into the office and shake his hand and keep a smile on her face as he talks about Buddy.

And how he’s appointing her to his Senate seat.

Fucking Nevada.She hadn’t even _thought_ about this.(She knows the reason, of course.The Governor’s preferred candidate has been diagnosed with lung cancer, and there was no way in hell he would give it to anyone from Las Vegas, because of the usual intra-city bullshit she refuses to care about, and there she was - a seasoned politico, a grieving widow and photogenic too.No one could possibly object).

She agrees, of course.

All the other possibilities are clowns, and what the fuck else is she going to do with her time?

Going back to DC is...is hard.She hasn't set foot in her and Buddy's town house since the crash, and she can't face it yet, so she books herself into a hotel near Capitol Hill for the few days before the swearing in ceremony.

Sophie, of all people, drags her out of there, insisting that she can't wear black for the ceremony, she's not going to dress up like some fucking widow when people will be taking pictures of her (Amy wants to argue with her, wants to point out that she _is_ a widow, and who cares if that little fact makes people uncomfortable).

She ends up with a green dress that's so dark it could be black, over Sophie's strenuous objections (but what Sophie knows about Senate dress codes wouldn't fill a postage stamp, so she feels free to ignore her).

It's a weird day.

Her parents are with her, beaming with pride, and Montez congratulates her before swearing her in (as acting-President, but still technically the VP, Montez has to swear in all Senators), and it's like they think _she_ was the one who was elected. 

But the real surprise, the real surprise is that Selina comes, complete with entourage.They pose for a picture together, and Amy can't help it, she's grateful to Selina for showing up and stealing the limelight and just... _being_ there.

Which is why she lets Selina drag her out for dinner with the team, and pour her a glass of wine, and pick her brain for thoughts on the campaign.

They're all keen to tell her how much better she looks, how much healthier, and Ben says BKD will help her vet candidates for her office staff, if she thinks that would be useful, and Kent says he's heard very good things about her polling numbers, if she decides she wants to run for the seat again in18 months.

Selina leaves after a few hours, but Ben and Kent and Dan stay with her, finishing off the bottle of wine, and telling her stories about how their consultancy is going.She actually laughs out loud when Dan tells her their plans for Danny Chung, and only remembers afterwards that it's the first time she's laughed in months.It feels strange.

"There's always a place for you with us, Amy," Ben says, smiling at her."If you decide being a Senator isn't for you, we could always use you."

"Thanks," she says, "I'll think about it."

"And don't let Dan here put you off either, we'll squash him if needs be."

She rolls her eyes."I don't think that's necessary."

"Why am _I_ the problem?"

"It's not his fault he was acting like a jealous freak all that time, Amy, he's not properly grown up yet."

"Jealous?"She can't keep the tone of disbelief out of her voice."Ben... that ship sailed a _long_ time ago."

"Yeah," he says, giving her the oddest little smile, "I guess it did."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"A word of advice, Dan," Ben says, slapping his back."When you choose a woman's sister over her, she tends to take it personally."

"And on that note," Amy says, "I'm going back to my hotel."

They offer to walk her back - since it's only a couple of blocks - and she lets them, because she doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts just yet, and listening to Kent and Ben make fun of Jonah's latest fuck-ups is more entertaining than it should be.

On much the same principle, she decides to get a nightcap in the hotel bar before going to bed.The hotel is old-fashioned one and still gives out keys, and she's fiddling with it, playing with the stupid miniature Washington Monument they attached to the ring while she waits for her drink, when she hears, "Beautiful women shouldn't drink alone."

She turns slowly to look at him, and says, "How sad for them.What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could have a nightcap."

There's a moment where she wants to laugh, because he used that fucking word, but she swallows it down, and gestures that he can sit.

Neither of them knows exactly what to say, and she's almost grateful when they're interrupted by the barman asking what Dan would like.He still drinks whiskey, it seems.

They're sitting side by side, the same way they were in Nevada, all that time ago, and maybe he remembers it too, because once he's been served, he turns to her and says, "You know, Ames, about...what Ben said -"

"We don't need to talk about that."

"I think we do," he says, "Because you seem to think - it was never about -"

"Look," she says, "On balance it was probably a good thing."

"Even _I_ don't think it was a -"

"Well, yeah, I'm sure you don't - mixing up CBS and CVS is pretty embarrassing, but..."There's this moment when she realises what she's about to say, and it's _wonderful_ , because it doesn't scare her anymore, it doesn't even matter. 

"But what?"

"It's just... I don't expect you to understand this, but I was _so_ in love with you back then, I didn't even realise how much until you - all of that, it... it made everything clear to me.At least I realised how pointless it was before I gave you a chance to use me all over again."

"You never said anything."

"Well of course not," she says, "What would have been the point?I mean, Dan, you didn't just 'have sex with my sister,' you reminded me of it, over and over again, made sure to rub it in - did you think I was going to forget?"

"Ames," he says, "Come on, I was a dick, that doesn't mean -"

"Anyway," she says, clearing her throat and knocking back her drink, "I met Buddy, and you were at CBS for two years, and...I guess we both got what we wanted."

"CBS was shit."

She shrugs."Buddy wasn't."She stands, because she really doesn't feel like soothing his ego all night."That's what I keep trying to remind myself.Even if he did...I still had two years with someone who cared about me, and wanted me, and thought I could be honest to god _sexy._ It's a lot better than pining over someone who thinks about me 'when he's trying not to come'."

"I never said that!"

"Yeah," she says, picking her key up off the bar."You did.And, you know, message received."

Dan's staring at her, his mouth gaping wide, and feeling childish or something, she picks up one of the complimentary peanuts from the dish on the bar, and puts it in his mouth.He grabs her hand, startling her, and she laughs at his expression. 

"Sorry," she says, "I couldn't resist.You look like a fish."

He's still holding her hand, and he leans in closer to her, his breath warm on her face."I really missed you."

"Sure you did."She pulls away, not wanting to get drawn into some...thing with him, and says, "I'm going to bed.Goodnight Dan."

She takes her time preparing for bed, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat, sitting down to remove her make-up and brush her hair.Tomorrow, she's going to have to do these things in their...in her house, in her old bathroom, and being there while Buddy _isn't_... it's going to be difficult.

She's about to brush her teeth when there's a knock on her door.Which... maybe she should have expected it.You can't tell a raging narcissist you loved him once upon a time and have him just...shake it off. 

"What do you want?"

Dan stares down at her and takes one long, considered step into her room.

"I didn't tell you all of that so you could...take advantage all over again."

"That's not what I'm doing," he says, taking another step, backing her up to the bed.

"Don't you have your usual array of women who will soon know better waiting for you?"

"Some," he says, and grins, "But they're not you."

"Lucky them," she says, though she can't quite maintain her steady tone.The way he's looking at her is unsettling.

"No," he says, and kisses her.

It's not...quite what she'd expected.There's no tongue stuck down her throat, he doesn't grab her ass, it's just a kiss.Gentle even.

At least, at first.When she opens her eyes, and sees Dan looking at her, it's like she's possessed somehow, and she finds herself grabbing onto him, pulling him closer by his hair, and kissing him back, kissing him properly.

It doesn't take much of this for him to start undoing her dress, and then... he sees it.

The mess of scar tissue on her abdomen.It doesn't hurt anymore, and that's something, but it's still there, red and raw looking, and...

Dan's staring at it like he's been transfixed.

"You know," she says, and her voice is shaking, "This is the first time since... so if you're going to be, if you're so disgusted that I'm different now, that I'm not all smooth and perfect, then you should just -"

"Shut up."He pushes her on to the bed, pinning her arms down with his, surprising her."That night, when I thought you might - I don't give a fuck, I'm just -"

"Relieved you don't have to find another blonde to fuck?"  
  
"Stop it.Jesus Christ, Amy, I thought you were going to _die_."

"So?"

"So... I had to sit there, in that campaign room, waiting to hear if -"

She gulps.There's something bizarre about Dan, of all people, saying this when - all this time, she'd thought maybe everyone would have been much better off if she'd just...

"I didn't know you cared that much."

"With as many times as I called your fucking sister trying to find out how you were?"

She shrugs, the movement pushing her chest against his."She never said anything about that."

“Of course she didn’t,” he says, and leans his forehead against hers.“You don’t have the least fucking idea, do you?”

“About what?”

He’s so close it’s distracting, and when he kisses her she lets him, moaning just a little, surprising herself when she realises that the desire, the desire she’d thought she’d outgrown, forgotten, buried deep down within herself, it’s still there. 

It’s the most _real_ feeling she’s had in months.

They break for air, and Dan starts to kiss down her body, removing the rest of her clothes as he does so, throwing her bra and panties into far-off corners of the room.“You,” he says, interrupting himself when he kisses her neck, “Have been driving me fucking _crazy_.”

Everywhere he touches her, it’s like her skin is coming back to life under his mouth.“Good,” she says, “You deserve it.”

When they’re face to face again, she’s surprised to see…he almost looks _sad_. She can’t have that, can’t deal with Dan having actual _feelings_ , so she gets to work on unbuttoning his shirt, trying not to be distracted by the weight and smell of him.

It’s only when she’s pushing his jacket over his shoulders that she thinks to ask. “Do you…have something?Cause I’m not on the pill, and I don’t have -”

He shakes his head, saying.“But it’s fine, I’m fucking sterile, they did a test, you’re fine.”  
  
“Do I look like I want to get antibiotic resistant gonorrhoea?”

“I’m clean, I swear to fuck, Amy, they emailed my test results like…a month ago, I’ll show them to you.”He kisses her neck, high up, behind her ear, “Don’t make me leave your bed to go buy something we don’t even need, not after so long.”

“All right,” she says, slowly, trying to convince herself she’s not insane.“But like I said, I haven’t, since the… you have to be…careful.”

She’s waiting for him to laugh, or make some stupid joke, or tell her she’s crazy, or tell her she’s frigid…but he just nods and snakes his hand between her legs.“Oh don't worry,” he says, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”  
  
And maybe that’s why she lets him stay the night.Or maybe she’s just sick of waking up alone, she’s not sure. 

Before Buddy, she used to shake off men who tried to cuddle, used to demand her own section of the bed, but now… when Dan wraps his arm around her, she lets him. 

He’s so warm and alive, his heartbeat a steady drumming in her ear, his skin smooth under her fingertips, that when she wakes up, sometime around four a.m., she can’t stop herself, she climbs on top of him, kissing his lips until he’s awake and grinding down on him until he’s ready to go.

It’s the first time she’s woken in the middle of the night and _not_ immediately thought about Buddy.She sleeps better too, wrapped around Dan, his presence driving away other thoughts.

Still, she’s not surprised that, when she does wake up the next morning, she wakes up alone. 

He is nothing if not predictable - probably the mere thought of waking up beside her was enough to send him running into the night.He probably left the moment she fell back asleep.

She checks her phone, her new Senatorial phone, and tries not to be horrified at the hundreds of emails she's received.Apparently every lobbying firm in the country wants to meet with her, to discuss possible areas of common interest, and assist her in getting to grips with her role.The more insulting ones even offer to give her crash course in Senate procedures, which is a sign that they didn't even bother with research - she only worked in Selina's senate office for _years_.

When her bathroom door opens and Dan comes out, her jaw nearly drops from shock.(He _looks_ like he spent the night having sex - his shirt is appallingly wrinkled and he hasn't shaved).

He stands still for a moment, looking at her, and finally says, "You're awake."  
  
"Yeah," she says, "I am.Sorry.Guess that ruins your clean get-away."

"I wasn't going to-"

"Spare me.What were you going to take me for breakfast?Kiss me goodbye?"

His eyes narrow, and he moves to sit beside her on the bed."Sounds great," he says, and she rolls her eyes."But I have to get on plane with Selina in two hours, so -"

"Right.That's why you're about to go racing out the door."

"Amy," he says, "I didn't want to wake you before I had to - I kind of wore you out -"

"Stop it!" she says, a surge of anger taking her by the throat."Don't fucking lie to me, I'm not twenty-five and stupid any more, all right?You were going, so you should just go.Get the fuck out of my room."

But he doesn't.He just leans closer, and as much as she wants to push him away, to tell him to go to hell... she doesn't.And when he kisses her, she kisses back.

When they finally part, Dan tugs on a lock of her hair to make her look at him."Have a good day at work," he says, "Try not to piss off the majority leader just yet, and we'll talk about it when I'm back in D.C."

He stands then, smoothing his suit front down, and he looks so smug, so certain of himself... she wants to shake him.

"If you're trying to buy my vote," she says, "One mediocre night of...is not enough to -"

"Guess I'll have to up my game then," Dan says, and winks at her."See you soon Brookheimer."

She throws a pillow at him as he leaves, but it doesn't land anywhere near him.

In an odd way, her... _annoyance_ with Dan is helpful.It buoys her up throughout the day, surging through her like adrenaline, giving her the energy and strength to make it through the whirlwind that is her first real day in office.

Especially as, right when she's starting to flag - seven different Senators approached her in the cafeteria to say how sorry they were about Buddy, and how much they'd liked him, and what a lovely couple they were, because what every woman needs is to be reminded of her dead husband as often as possible - she discovers he's sent her a text message.It's nothing much, just a link to a news story about Jonah's latest fuck-up, along with some suggested mood music (to help her get the sleep that she must need so very badly, after Dan kept her up late the night before), but it enrages her all the same.

He's fucking unbearable.

She floats through the day on a tide of fury and impatience, and overall, it's much less difficult than she'd expected it to be.

It's when she gets home that things change - or don't change.

She'd bought a bottle of wine, and she was planning to order pizza and curl up in one of Buddy's old sweaters.But when she puts it on, when the scent of him, the warm, loving scent that she has almost forgotten, wafts over her... it's too much.

Buddy is not there.Buddy is not going to be there.

Buddy is fucking dead, he left her, he left her behind, and she is not, she can not stand to keep living with all these _reminders_ of what she doesn't have any more.

In a fit of passion, she finds herself stripping down his closets, pouring away his cologne, emptying his bedside cabinet. 

It's horrible - every five seconds she sees something, or smells something, or remembers something that stabs her right in the fucking heart, and strange though it may seem... that just confirms to her that she's doing the right thing.

She's not going to live the rest of her life in a fucking shrine. 

He's gone, and it's time she started living like it.

The whole wretched process of clearing Buddy's stuff out and unpacking all the boxes they'd never got round to takes the best part of two weeks.Between that and adjusting to being a Senator, Amy's so exhausted by the end of each day she sleeps like a baby.

Her mother even comments on her newfound burst of energy, convinced it's a good thing (though if she knew it was propelled by rage at both Buddy and Dan, Amy suspects she’d take a different view).

She has this feeling that at some point there’s going to be a come down, she’ll lose her anger and an outburst of _feelings_ will take its place, but Dan takes care of that, in a way.

She’s midway through her third week as Senator, and comes back to the office for an hour between hearings, to check-in with her office manager and diary secretary about the rest of her week. 

At least, that was the plan.But the very first thing she sees is a discreet, elegantly wrapped gift-box sitting on her desk. 

When she opens it, she finds silky lingerie and a note.Specifically, there’s a light, art-deco style…nightgown, she guesses, a robe, a loose pair of french knickers and a matching camisole - all in a dusty rose colour, trimmed with soft lace. 

The envelope reads “Rigby and Peller” which sparks a memory - the only non-work thing she’d done on that god-awful trip to London was visit a Rigby and Peller store with Selina.Apparently, they supplied the Queen’s underwear, and of course the Vice-President (then) had to have lingerie that was just as good if not better.

Selina had spent most of the visit giggling with Ray, holding up items to get his opinion, and Amy had hung back, looking at her phone whenever possible and wishing to be anywhere else.Shopping for ludicrously expensive lingerie was not her idea of a good time.

The note says, “I’m in town till Sunday - we need to talk about the National Infrastructure Bill.”

It takes her a second to put together exactly what he means, and then she’s so furious she’s taking her phone out and calling the BKD offices, telling the receptionist that she _insists_ on being put through when she says Dan is in a meeting.

He sounds pleased that she called, which shows that he still - _still_ \- doesn’t have the faintest idea who he’s dealing with.

“Dan,” she says, trying to keep her tone relatively even, “I am only going to say this once, you colossal shitfuck.Don’t ever try to _buy_ my vote.I swear to god, I don’t care if you send me fucking diamonds or roses or the entire fucking back catalogue of La Perla, if you ever _ever_ try this shit again, I will come over there and I will castrate you with a pair of _manicure_ scissors.”

“Manicure scissors?”

“Because it’ll _hurt_ more,” she says, “You save those tricks for your goddamn horde of adoring interns or whatever, and leave me out of it.The fucking _Queen’s_ underwear shop?What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Eh Amy,” someone says, and her heart sinks when she realises it’s not Dan.“You do know you’re on speakerphone?”

She’s silent for a second, taking that in, (trying not to think about who is in the room with him). 

Ben (it was Ben) continues, “Do you two want to, maybe, talk about this alone -”

“No!” she says, “Because there’s nothing to fucking talk about.Dan, you absolute human wasteland, don’t you fucking _dare_ try that shit on me again, or I swear -”

“You know Amy,” Kent says (great, Kent’s there too), “Traditionally when a man buys a woman lingerie, it’s because he wants to see her in it.”

“Yes, I know that, thank you, but we’re not dealing with a traditional man here, are we, we’re dealing with a shit on legs.Try and mess with my mind like this again, and I swear on my fucking clit, I will vote against you on every single Bill that comes my way, fuck getting reelected.”

“Okay Amy,” Selina says, “I think he got the message.You free for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she says, “It would be a pleasure.Would Scion restaurant work?”

“Sure,” Selina says, “We’ll make sure to instagram it.”

“I’ll have my assistant set it up,” she says, and finishes the call.

That felt _amazing_.

 

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t know how to feel when Amy hangs up.On one level, being screamed at in front of the entire campaign team is kind of embarrassing, and on another… there’s something comforting about it.

Ben shakes his head at him.“Jesus,” he says, “And we thought Jonah was bad with women.”

Kent chuckles, smiling an obnoxious little smile as Ben continues, “You’re closer to forty than thirty, and you still don’t know how to tell a woman you like her without enraging her in the process.I’ll say this for you Danny Boy, you may be an immense fuck-up, but you’re _very_ entertaining.”

“She won’t talk to you again any time soon,” Leon says, looking obnoxiously happy about it.

“What the fuck are you all talking about?”Selina is looking at them as though they’ve each grown an extra head.“Am I the only one who noticed?  That was the first time, in months, she’s sounded even remotely like herself.”

“Talking about how terrible Dan is was kind of her thing, back in the day.”

“Exactly, Ben, exactly.So, Dan, what I’d say is… whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.I want Amy Fucking Brookheimer back, not the widow of Carson City, so get on that.”She stands, because she’s leaving for a procedure Dan hadn’t had the intestinal fortitude to ask about.“And by the way?Rigby and Peller… that’s a much classier choice than I would have expected from you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, not knowing how else to respond.

“I’m just grateful it wasn’t Victoria’s fucking Secret.”

And then she sails out, and Dan’s left to contemplate how, exactly, he’s going to get Amy to talk to him again. 

It’s harder than he expects it to be.

Thanks to the campaign, he isn’t in DC as often as he’d like, and Amy ignores each and every text message he sends her, never responding no matter provocative he manages to be.Eventually, he decides there’s no point in waiting for her to make contact, and sets up camp outside her office.

It takes nearly two hours, but she eventually shows up.And when she sees him, she doesn’t scream at him, doesn’t tell him to fuck off, doesn’t even grimace.Her face sinks, just a little, but she gestures for him to come into her private office. 

It’s a bog-standard congressional office, kind of grimy and kind of bland, and it’s already bursting at the seams with papers and books and the usual plethora of shit that politicians never have the time to read.

“So,” he says, sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him.“Finally decided to stop avoiding me?”

“Something like that.”Amy leans back in her sit, resting her hands on her stomach. 

“What changed your mind?”

She laughs shortly, her eyes fixed on his face.“I’m pregnant.” 

“ _Fuck.”_

“Yeah,” she says, “That’s the look of abject horror I was expecting.”

“Amy, I -”

“I’m keeping it,” she says, her tone businesslike.“You can fuck off, you don’t have to have anything to do with it.”

“You’ll never get re-elected.”

“So what?”She says, “I’m only filling a dead man’s shoes anyway, so -”

“So you’re prepared to, what, set yourself up to be the press’ whipping girl for the next six months?”

“If needs be.”  
  
“And what if I don’t want to fuck off?Can you imagine what this will do to Selina’s campaign when it comes out that I’m the father?”

“Because preying on a grieving widow isn’t your style?Literally no one who’s ever met you would believe that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“All right genius,” she says, “You come up with a plan.”

Which, he does.It doesn’t even take very long. 

Admittedly, when he shows up at her house with a suitcase and tells her he’s moving in, Amy shouts at him and tells him to fuck off, but eventually, with the help of a strategic intervention from Selina (who groaned out loud when he told her about the situation), she agrees to a temporary arrangement.

Buddy Calhoun’s widow _cannot_ show up pregnant and single less than six months after her husband died, there’s just no way.

He moves his stuff in the next time he’s back in DC - it’s a Tuesday, because campaigns have their downtime mid-week, and Amy gives him a key in the morning and tells him to settle in.Her town-house is big enough that he can have his own room, though he’s confident that, sooner or later, he can convince her to share with him.

It takes him the best part of a day to move everything in and unpack, and it’s only when he goes looking for the bathroom that he finds it.

Right beside Amy’s bedroom, the most ludicrously perfect nursery he’s ever seen, complete with fluffy clouds painted on the walls and an aeroplane mobile over the crib.

He’s staring at it, baffled, when he hears Amy coming in.She calls out his name, and when he answers, he hears her start to make her way up the stairs.

He’s not smart enough to get the fuck out of there before she gets to him, and when Amy sees him standing in the doorway she slumps, looking defeated before he’s even said anything.

“What is this?”

She’s barely been pregnant two months, how did she even have time for…

Amy doesn’t look at him, almost hiding behind her hair as she says, “It’s from…before.”

“What the fuck?You weren’t pregnant.”

She sinks down on the top step, hugging her knees.“I was.Before the crash.”

“… Why didn’t I know about this?”

Her voice is a monotone.“Because no one did.We hadn’t… you know, things can still go wrong in the first four months, and I just wanted to wait until…my parents didn’t even know, only Buddy’s Mom, and Selina.”

“Why the fuck would you tell Selina and not your own Mom?”

“I needed to explain why I wasn’t going to join the campaign until later in the year.Buddy and I agreed, it would be better to get his office set up and take maternity leave before - he was so excited, when I told him, he got to work on the nursery before we’d even moved in.Anyway, on the Friday I was in a plane crash, on the Saturday I found out my husband was dead, and on the Sunday they told me… they told me there was too much damage, the baby wouldn’t make it.  It felt like I was _dead_ , like I should have been dead.”He sits down beside her, crowding her a little bit. 

“I’m really sorry, Amy, jesus.”

“Why, because if Buddy hadn’t died I wouldn’t be ruining _your_ life?”  
  
“You’re not ruining my life, don’t be such a fucking drama queen. Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t want to be?”

“Dan, as I think has _long_ been clear, I don’t have the faintest fucking clue what you want.”

He slings his arm over her shoulders, pulling her in just a little bit.“I’m really fucking sorry that happened, okay?I mean…no wonder you were fucked off with everything.”

“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.”

“And fine, I’m not who you wanted this with, but Amy… at least we’re friends.I mean, yeah I’m an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like me.”

She gives a watery laugh.“Buddy was kind of an asshole too, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Not like, not your special kind of toxicity, but… he _loved_ the sound of his own voice.He just covered it better than you.He used to make me _so_ mad, you don’t even know.”

“Sounds like you have a type.”  
  
“Maybe,” she says, and he can see a kind of fondness in her face.“I was sure I would never hear from him again after the first time we… figured it’d be a one night thing - what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, as Sophie _kept fucking saying_ \- and then he came out to the Congressional Ball, and…and we got into a fight over some bullshit, I can’t even remember, and…”

“I really fucked up in Nevada, didn’t I?”Amy shrugs, and he tugs at her hair to liven her up.“Come on,” he says, “Let’s eat, and sit on something more comfortable than a fucking step.”

They go out for Italian and talk about the latest political news, and Dan doesn’t let a whisper of his plan for announcing the pregnancy pass his lips.Not yet.

Between his supposed infertility and her oh so tragic miscarriage, it should just about be possible to sell the public on the idea that the pregnancy isn’t a grave insult to the legacy of Buddy Calhoun, political rockstar taken before his time.

It takes a week or two of persuasion, but she agrees to it in the end, and even lets him stick a new rock on her finger, though he can tell putting the old ring away upsets her.(For that reason - and also because there’s no way in hell _he’s_ going to get excited over baby furniture - he tells her they should keep the nursery Buddy designed).(When he tries to sell Amy on the idea that Buddy would be happy for her, she glares at him and says, “So we’re clear, if my _husband_ knocked someone up less than six months after I died…I’d be pretty fucking pissed off.”)

Between the campaign and her duties in the Senate, they don’t see each other very much - when they do, Dan tries to soften her up, get her to relax a little, treat him like an actual part of her life, not an inconvenience.

But it’s two steps forward, one step back, all the time.One day she’ll fall asleep with her head on his shoulder when they’re watching the news, and the next she jumps when he tries to touch her.They sleep together, because of course they do, usually after they’ve had a shouting match about some bullshit… but overall, it’s more like having a roommate who happens to be pregnant, than an actual fiancé.

Until, that is, the day of Selina’s official campaign launch.It’s a beautiful day in Maryland, the crowd seems almost receptive and… and Jonah’s running a ‘listening session’ (which was _bound_ to have been disastrous) in the same area, and on the way back his campaign bus rear-ends Selina’s, because of course it does.

Rear-end makes it sound less dangerous than it actually was, mind - they’re on the freeway, going at speed, and the impact of the hit sends just about everyone flying.

Dan comes to ten, maybe fifteen minutes after the crash, being fussed over by a paramedic, and with approximately seven million alerts on his phone.Selina’s screaming at Jonah in the background, and Leon is answering endless fucking press calls, and Dan wants nothing more than to go home and go to sleep.

He’s trying to convince the paramedic of exactly this point, when he hears the most beautiful sound of his entire life.

“Listen to me you unbaked shitcake, either you let me through or I will _climb_ over you, with my heels on, you are not keeping me out of -”

He can see her, fighting with the police officers, telling them she is a United States Senator, and they will make way for her or face the consequences and… he loves her so fucking much.

When they finally let her past the barricade, (an event the news cameras note with interest), she takes three steps, sees him and falters, just a little.

Her face is chalk white, and she looks as though she’s run miles to get here and…and she turns to Jonah and says, “You tall glass of thundering failure, you said he might be _dying_.”

“I… Sorry, Amy.”

Jonah’s giving everyone this stupid _grin_ , like it’s a funny joke, and that’s when Amy hits him.Not a slap, nothing so feminine, no, she punches him right in the fucking jaw.It’s not _quite_ enough to knock Jonah off his feet, but she gets a lot closer than Dan would have expected - it’s also the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

He can see her shaking out her hand, and he gestures at her.“Come here.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ll just -”

“ _Amy_ , get over here.”She takes a step towards him, and he adds, “I was just in car wreck.”

“Bus wreck.”

“Whatever.I want to hug my wife.”

“We are not married,” she says, but she’s close enough that he can take her hand and pull her in close.

“And whose fault is that?”He can feel her shaking, clinging onto him in a way she’s never done before.He lets her hide her face in his shoulder, because he knows she won’t want anyone to see her like this, and strokes her back to help her calm down.“I’m okay,” he says, into her ear, “Promise.I’m fine.”

Amy sniffs, and pulls away, but only a little.“Are you sure?”

“Don’t let all the paraphernalia freak you out.”He kisses her, and it’s not quick.“Take me home and I’ll show you how fine I am.”

“No.No,” she says, her face a picture.“You are going to the hospital, and you are getting checked out for every fucking thing, because I am not having you collapse with a brain haemorrhage or something because you wouldn’t -”

“Okay,” he says, “Okay.”(In fairness, he can tell why she’s so freaked out - two husbands in one year would be _exceptionally_ bad luck, but even so…)“On one condition.”

Amy looks sceptical.“If this is your way of extorting some weird sex thing -”

“Please, I have never had to extort sex from you and you know it.Next time you go back to Nevada, I’m coming with you.”

“Why, so can you insult _all_ my constituents?”

“No,” he says, and kisses her again.“You know why.I’m going to be more than your kept man.”

Amy takes a moment, and then cups his face in her hands before kissing him.“My Dad is going to be _pissed_ ,” she says, and Dan laughs.

“Now there’s two reasons.”

“Asshole.”

She doesn’t let go of him, not until the paramedic is ready to lift him into the ambulance (on a stretcher, for fuck’s sake), and even then, she sits beside him, holding his hand for dear life.

They have to wait a few minutes for to leave, and Selina joins them to go over potential press statements.Which is when Amy asks her if Dan can have the next weekend off.

“Why?” Selina says, irritated, as always, at the idea of her staff having lives beyond her.

“So we can go to Vegas and get married.”

“Fina-fucking-ly,” Selina says, “Yes, yes, take him away, please.”

The doors are closed, the engine is switched on… and they make out for the entire drive to the hospital.

It’s just a preview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to the final lines of John Fuller's poem Valentine:  
>  _I’d like to be around when you unhook._  
>  I’d like to be your only audience,  
> the final name in your appointment book,  
> your future tense.


	9. Once Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU, starting from 3.05 - Dan comes to the bar after being made Campaign Manager. Loosely inspired by the Parks and Recreation episode The Fight.

Ben had texted him to say they were all going out for drinks, in that god awful Irish bar Ben insisted on going too, and, having been made Campaign Manager at long fucking last, Dan was determined to go.He deserved a drink, a shot, a chance to kick back and relax before the real work began. 

Besides he’d spent weeks being ‘nice’ to all their idiot interns and volunteers, and he needed a break from that.

He was somewhat surprised to find only Kent and Sue there, though less so when they told him the others had gone to harass Jonah. 

Except that that didn’t seem to have worked out so well. 

He’d only been sitting there five minutes (ignoring Sue’s suggestion that maybe he should go home _now_ , and rest for the coming days), when the whole bunch came trouping in, Jonah in tow.Apparently their plan to throw cum at his door had been disrupted by Jonah opening the door and being surprisingly friendly (well not that surprising - a drunk Amy showing up in the middle of the night probably topped Jonah’s fantasy list, even if she came with Gary and Mike). 

So friendly, in fact, that he’d insisted on coming back to the bar with them and buying a round, which probably explained everyone’s glum expressions. 

Amy’s was the funniest.The moment she walked into the bar and met his eyes, she wheeled around, seemingly planning on leaving.Only, with Jonah in the way, blocking the door, and everyone else apparently desperate to get to the bar and have another drink, she can’t get out, and the pressure of the crowd carried her along.Even Gary was pushing her, which was new.

Jonah was loudly saying that he would buy everyone drinks, and so Amy dragged herself onto a bar stool, only looking up when Sue came over to talk to her.

Which… he gets it.She’s disappointed, she’s hurt, she wants to kneecap him as a form of revenge, that’s all normal.

So, it’s up to him to mend fences. 

Normally, of course, he wouldn’t give a shit, he’d let Amy have her sulk, and laugh at her the entire time, but…

But on balance, he’d rather provoke her into saying something now - let her give him a slap even - and get it over with.

Which is why he sidles in beside her at the bar, standing with his arm half around her shoulder, though she doesn’t immediately notice, too busy laughing at whatever story Gary’s telling her.(She has a great laugh, he’s often thought so, all loud and raucous and rude.She always sounds like she’s laughing at a really, really dirty joke). 

“So you were _in_ there,” she says, “When Mike was… _gross_.Isn’t that against some kind of men’s room etiquette?”

“Please,” Gary says, “Jonah probably did it every day in the White House.Probably stopped off every time he had to walk between the West Wing and the EEOB.”

Jonah looks torn between shock at Gary talking like that, and the need to claim that he did not, in fact, regularly masturbate in various Federal bathrooms.

“Had a second glass of Prosecco, did you buddy?”

“No, no,” Gary says, and he’s even more drunk than Dan had thought.“I had _tequila_.I don’t even feel the pain any more, Selina could add, like a…a…”

“A fucking baseball bat, that’s what she could add,” Amy says, “She could add it to the bag, and then we could hit people with it when they fuck up, we could have hit that stupid women with her mentally challenged baby.”

“No, no,” Gary says, “You have to think bigger.We could hit  _Andrew_.”

Amy’s eyes go wide, and laughter simply… _gushes_ out of her.“If we hit him hard enough, maybe we could give him a normal shaped nose.”

“Please,” Dan says, “You couldn’t reach that far.”

“Yeah, but think about it… maybe she wouldn’t like him so much if his face was a different shape.”Jonah looks pretty blank, and she continues.“ _Think_ about it - I have heard far more than any human woman should ever have to hear about Andrew Meyer’s…prowess.”

He wonders for a second if she knows about Selina setting Andrew’s car on fire, but decides he’d rather not know.“Jealous?”

Amy wrinkles her nose in a way that’s almost childish, “Not ever - I would rather…I can’t think of a thing I would rather do, my imagination is not gross enough.”

“Can you even stand?”

She rolls her eyes, nudging Gary with a bizarre kind of camaraderie.“Shut up.We heard you were Campaign Manager, so drinking was the only option.”

“Don’t worry, Ames,” he says, “I’ll be firm but fair.”

She makes that disgusted face again, and says, “Fuck you, Dan, couldn’t you allow one night for the trauma to settle in?Like, I don’t think my immune system is ready to deal with you right now.”

“Amy, Amy, Amy,” he says, “Just because Selina decided I was a better choice for Campaign Manager doesn’t mean you’re not a genuinely valued member of the team.”

“Well just because you’re Campaign Manager doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t…fuck you with a steak knife.Jonah!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“Buy me a shot.”Jonah practically _leaps_ over the bar to follow her command, almost giving himself whiplash when Amy continues, “Actually.Buy me _all_ the shots.Buy me every shot in this bar, I don’t even want to have spinal fluid any more, just alcohol.”

“Whatever you command,” Jonah says, with a more sleazy than usual look on his face.

“You should have done this years ago, Amy,” Gary says, “Just turn him into your personal sockpuppet.If you gave him your underwear he’d probably carry you around for like a month.Give you foot rubs and shit.”

“I _like_ you on tequila,” Amy says, “You never swear - we should mark this date in the diary.”

She knocks back the first shot Jonah buys her, and looks set to do the same with the next when Ben interrupts them to congratulate Dan on his promotion.He gets drawn into a conversation with him and Mike, and loses track for a while. 

He finds her though, on his way to the men’s room.She’s hanging up from a phone call with more than her usual vehemence, and when she turns around and sees him her face falls. 

“Can you just please fuck off, for once?” 

“That would be a lot less fun for me.”

“I give a shit what’s fun for you.”

“Cheer up,” he says, stepping closer to her, “Think of it this way, at least your new boss likes you.”

“You don’t like anyone, jesus fuck,” she says, shuddering.“And you are _not_ my boss.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sugar,” he says, leaning against the wall and looking down at her.“But it’s okay, you’ll get used to it.”

“As though I’ll have time before your inevitable flame out.You’re probably planning to jump ship to Pearce or whoever the moment we get a bad poll.”

“Having experience running a presidential campaign will make me even more desirable, so -”He’s so close to her he can smell her hair, her perfume… not that she seems to notice.

“Look, I’m pretty sure I just broke up with Ed, so…fuck off.You are quite literally the last person I want to talk to right now.”

“Look, Ames, you’re a good kid… it just wasn’t your time.There’ll be other campaigns.”

“Whatever - she only picked you because her first choice turned her down.You’re sloppy seconds and you know it, that’s why you’re keeping up this pathetic bragging act.You’re no better than fucking Jonah, no offence.”She shoves past him then, stumbling into the ladies room and banging the door as loud as she possibly can. 

There’s a moment when he considers walking back to the bar, getting another drink and enjoying himself but… but some things cannot be allowed to stand.

“You know what,” he says, following Amy into the ladies room.“Offence.Actually.That’s fucking rude.”

“Shit,” Amy says, “Well now I feel really bad, I hurt your sweet little feelings.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Well then what is?What kind of sociopath are you, expecting me to play nice no matter how many times you fuck me over?”

“It’s not about you!How fucking self-obsessed are you that you think my going for a job is just some scheme to get at you?”

“Oh please,” she says, her chest heaving in indignation (sue him, he notices these things), “As though pissing me off isn’t the closest thing you have to an actual hobby.”

“That’s _different_.”

“Different to _what_ ,” Amy says, poking him in the chest.“You’re a fucking child.”

“Yeah, well you’re an uptight, joyless - just cause you were sweet on me once upon a time, and you’ve never gotten over it, you’ve got to be an unbearable fucking shrew?”

“ _I’m_ not the one who followed me into the women’s room.Seems to me the one with a problem here is _you_ \- you could be anywhere else right now, _with_ anyone else right now, and yet…here you are.”

They’re both silent for a second, staring at each other, as though they’ve both only just realised what they’ve started fighting about. 

Which is why he says it.

“You’re right.”

“Often am,” Amy says, though she sounds less than confident.“Have to be more specific.”

Dan takes a step closer to her.“I _am_ the one with a problem.”

“What?” Amy says, backing up against the sink, suddenly sounding nervous.“What are you talking about?”

“This.”

He kisses her.

Pulls her up - pulls her almost out of her shoes - and slots his mouth over hers.Amy freezes for a moment before kissing back, but when she does she’s…she’s fierce, and demanding, as though trying to continue the fight any way she can.

She starts slightly when he slides his hands under her skirt, and he pulls his mouth off hers long enough to say, “This is never going to work…you’re about the size of a fucking hobbit.”

“So?”

And that’s when he lifts her, on to the sink, trying not to grunt as he does so.It’s worth it though, when Amy says, “Much better,” and pulls him closer with his tie, clearly wanting to make out with him properly.He doesn’t know how long they spend kissing, but he can feel her squirming against him when he bites down on her neck, feel her trembling when he pulls her panties down.

He’s got his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her slickness, his other hand groping her ass (because he can, finally), when he hears the words that call them back to something resembling reality.

“Dan,” Sue says, “Amy.”

“It’s really not a good time, Sue,” he says, not bothering to look at her, only looking at Amy.Her eyes are closed, but he sees her lips form the words “Oh God,” though she doesn’t say them out loud.

“It seems exactly the right time to me, Dan,” Sue says, her voice like a lash.“I thought Amy might be upset - though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I…I have to go,” Amy says, hopping down off the sink and making a run for it.“I have to, I have to - I can’t - I’ll see you, Sue.”She sounds like she’s about to cry, which is why Dan goes to follow her.

But Sue stops him, holding up a hand imperiously.“Really, Dan?” she says, “I thought Jonah was the rapey one.”

“Come the fuck on - I would never -”

“Let’s see,” Sue says, “She’s drunk, and you’re not - which you know, since you saw Jonah pouring all those shots down her throat. She’s upset, and you’re not.And you decide that this is the time to -”

“That wasn’t -”

“And in a toilet?Of a bar.Classy move.”

“Whatever you think was going on isn’t…”

“I’m going to make sure Amy gets home unmolested,” she says, “Don’t follow me.”

He takes a minute, to smooth his hair down and straighten his tie, not to mention wash his hands, and by the time he walks back into the bar he feels calmer.

Only Ben and Gary (of all people) are left, on what Gary says is the last round.(Jonah had apparently slunk out of the bar as soon as Amy left, no doubt bitterly disappointed to have missed his shot).There’s something in Ben’s gaze when he sees Dan, but all he does is offer him another drink, slapping him on the back and calling him ‘Danny Boy.”

He leaves shortly afterwards, and tries to call Amy before going to bed - he is a shit, but he has _standards_ , and a woman running out of a sexual encounter close to tears doesn’t exactly meet them.

But she doesn’t pick up.

Not only that, when Selina calls everyone to a celebratory ‘tea’ in the residence the next day - the idea being they’ll be able to brainstorm better in a more relaxed environment, or at least an environment with miniature cakes - Amy doesn’t come.

It’s only when Sue explains that Amy is going to come later, she has a meeting with ‘Craig and Melissa from Clovis’ that he realises things may be more seriously wrong than he’d thought.

“She’s planning on jumping ship?” Selina says, sounding outraged.“Just because she didn’t get to be Campaign Manager, how selfish can you -”

“I don’t think it was just about the job, ma’am,” Sue says, “I think Dan trying to get it on with her last night in the bar, might have had something to do with it.”

“Thanks Sue,” he says, giving her a look, “But if Amy gets thrown off by one lousy make-out… then she’s not -”

“ _Now_?” Selina says, looking disgusted with him.“Now is when you chose to do this?You couldn’t have let the dust settle for five fucking minutes before trying to bang it out?Jesus Christ, Dan, you do realise timing in this business is everything?”

“I didn’t mean to - we were fighting and -”

“Stop.Everyone can work it out, Dan, believe me.It was always going to happen, that was obvious, you two were not…discreet.” Selina rolls her eyes.“But you couldn’t have waited?I mean, really, if you had to traumatise someone with your penis, could it not have been one of the interns?Them we can _replace_.”

“She’s just embarrassed,” he says, hoping it’s true, “And why is Sue even telling you this?It’s private.”

Sue shrugs, clearly not in the least bit phased by him.“I’m addicted to the drama.”

“Fine,” Selina says, “This is really not what I needed to be fucking doing today, but - Sue do you know where Amy is?”

She gives them the name of the restaurant where Amy was going to meet Craig or Creg or whatever his name is, and minutes later he and Selina are in a car, making their way there, the rest of the team having been dismissed for the day. 

Fortunately, or not, Gary isn’t with her, which means Selina has free rein to insult him in any manner she chooses.Despite what she may think…he does _get_ it, Amy running for the exit on his first official day as Campaign Manager is not a good sign, not even close, he understands that.(She also has some rather pointed comments about how she should have known his dick would get them into trouble eventually, which he could have done without).

When they pull up outside the restaurant, they see Amy saying goodbye to Craig and Melissa.Dan gets out of the car as they walk away, and when Amy turns and sees him her expression is disgruntled. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Into the car, Ame,” Selina says, sticking her head out the window.“Right fucking now.”

“You _didn’t_.”

He holds his hands up in self-defence.“Blame Sue, she was the one who decided to tell-all.”

“I will _kill_ you.”

“You’ve said that every day for, what, the last two and a half years?You’re never going to actually do it, you’d miss me too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Selina says from within the car, “Did I stutter?Get the fuck in here.”

Amy climbs into the car, looking harassed and purposefully hitting Dan with her shoulder-bag as she goes.

The moment they’re in, the car pulls away and Selina nails Amy with a beady gaze.“Little Miss Brookheimer,” she says, “Doesn’t get what she wants and goes running all the way too California.”

“Ma’am,” Amy says, “I am way too hungover for some -”

“Excuse me?”

“It was just a meeting, I haven’t…committed to anything.I was…exploring my options.”

“Oh your _options_ ,” Selina says, “Whatever happened to a little thing called loyalty.?

“I don’t know ma’am.What did happen?”

It takes Dan a second to realise that Amy is actually sniping right back at Selina, something he’s never seen her do before.He’s almost relieved to discover that he’s not the _only_ one she’s pissed at.

“Okay,” Selina says, “You know what - I don’t have time for this shit.You two are going to have to work it out.”

“I…don’t understand,” Amy says, still not looking at him.

“Let me make it real simple then.You’re both Campaign Manager.”

“What?”

He’s not sure who sounds more outraged, him or Amy, though she’s certainly higher-pitched.

“You heard me.You’ll do it together, or not at all.”

“But… how would that even work?”

“I don’t know, you’ll figure it out.Because frankly, I’m not all that impressed with either of you right now, you with your pathetic little sulking act and Dan… well, let’s just say I think it’s best to have someone holding the dog-killer’s leash.Twelve hours and there’s already been a fucking mutiny.”

“What do you -”

Selina rolls right over Amy’s question, saying, “And since the two of you apparently can’t keep your hands off each other for five minutes…should suit you down to the ground.”

There’s a long pause, and then Dan asks the burning question.“She’s still junior to me though, right?”

Selina snorts.“No.You’re equals - find a way to make it work, or find someone else to hire you.”The car pulls up at the residence, and she gets out saying, “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning.”

And then she’s gone, and the two of them are left to figure out their next move.When Amy doesn’t say anything, Dan tells the driver to drop them off at his address, and then puts the barrier up for good measure. 

“Well done, sponge-bob,” Amy says, “You really landed us in it now.”

“I think you’ll find it was you flouncing off to Clovis that did that.”

“Whatever - why are we going to your place?”

“Do _you_ want to have this conversation in a restaurant?”

“I don’t even want to -”

“Look,” he says, “We’ll get a pizza and…I have beer.You’ll feel better.”

“Trying to get me drunk again?”

“We _were_ interrupted just when it was getting good,” he says, and takes a moment to enjoy Amy’s light blush, “I could barely sleep last night.And you know that’s not what it was.”

Amy shrugs, looking out the window.“I don’t know what it was you wanted from me -”

“Really, the massive hard-on didn’t make that obvious?”

“Since I’m pretty sure you’d fuck a three day old corpse if you thought it would give you an advantage, no.”

To hell with this. 

“Come on, Ames,” he says, turning in his seat, crowding her up against the window, “Even in your most pissed off mood, I’m pretty sure you know that there is nothing you can do for me right now career-wise, not a single thing.”

“I don’t have your messed-up sewer-rat mentality,” she says, “So I won’t even try to guess why you do what you do.”

Helpfully, the car turns, swerves almost, pushing her closer to him, and Dan takes the opportunity, and kisses her, gripping the back of her neck in one hand, and deepening the kiss as soon as she lets him.

He’s tempted, really tempted, to push her back against the car seat and fuck her properly… but he knows they only have a few more minutes, so when they stop at a red light, he pulls back and says, “So what kind of pizza do you want?”

Amy blinks, slightly dazed he thinks, but it works.They have a spirited debate about exactly what kind of pizza they should have, and it seems to help her settle down a bit.By the time they reach his apartment, they’ve placed the order and moved on to discussing if it’s even possible for a campaign to have joint managers.(Amy claims that the Labour party under Blair tried it one time, but he has his doubts).

Once they’re in his apartment and down to brass tacks, it actually works…surprisingly well.Amy makes fun of his ideas, and he points out that it’s useful to at least have some, and almost without either of them noticing, it’s close to midnight and they’ve covered his entire table in notes. (And they have also established a ground rule that neither of them - but especially Dan - is allowed to sleep with an intern until the campaign is over, as Amy says the last thing they need is a potential sex scandal).

But it’s when he suggests getting a ‘personal trainer’ for Selina that Amy really lets loose.“That is,” she says, gesturing with her beer bottle, “The dumbest idea I have ever heard - and I worked with Mike for _years_.”

“Come on,” he says, “We both know Andrew is terrible for her.We give her a nice new chew-toy to play with and that way he can’t ruin the campaign.”  
  
“Until Selina discovers you pimped her out, dipshit, and then she’ll fire the fuck out of you.”

“Don’t be -”

“Oh, she will.I don’t know how it’s possible that you don’t know this yet, but women don’t like it when they find out that someone was fucking them not because he _wanted_ to, but because…” Her voice trails off, and it takes her a moment to continue.“Anyway, it’s stupid, and that’s not even getting into what would happen if anyone _else_ found out about it.You really want to keep Andrew away from the campaign, find him an heiress with questionable investment instincts, you must have a few on file somewhere.”

It takes him a second, but he has to admit… “That is a better idea.”

“Always the tone of surprise.”

He leans closer to her, taking the beer bottle out of her hands.“And here I thought _I_ was the devious, manipulative -”

“Well clearly you’re a terrible influence.”

“I like the sound of that,” he says, and kisses her.

It’s only afterwards, when they’re lying, naked and spent, in bed together, that Amy lifts her head off his chest and says, “This is never going to work.’

“I don’t know,” he says, feeling strange and mellow, liking the feeling of her skin against his, “If we only need one hotel room, that’ll save the campaign some money for ad-buys.”

“ _Don’t_ say that to Kent or he’ll mandate it for everyone on the team.”

“Deal,” he says, “But Amy?Don’t ever mention fucking _Kent_ when we’re in bed together again.”

“Fine,” she says, trying to sound irritated with him.“You’re making me breakfast by the way.”

He smirks, and pinches her waist just a little.“Does this mean between sex and actually _eating_ something you’ll be less of a bitch in the mornings?”

Amy relaxes, snuggling in, just a little.“I make no promises,” she says.“And we’re only doing this again if you find a way not to be a superlative human turd.”

“I can live with that.”


End file.
